


Lone Victims

by EHC



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Max didn't reconcile with Chloe, Nathan is an entitled fuck, Rachel Amber Lives, Retribution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 31,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EHC/pseuds/EHC
Summary: In canon, prior to the events of the game, Kate Marsh had attended a party where she was drugged, kidnapped by Nathan, assaulted, then dumped back in her room. The resulting humiliation from the viral video taken of her at the party, coupled with all the bullying she suffered before, drove her to attempt suicide. Depending on several factors, Max can either successfully rescue Kate, and escort her from the roof so she can recover, or she could fail, and Kate would die.But, what if Kate wasn't the one who went to the party? What if Max attended instead? How would events have changed?Warning: not a happy AU.
Relationships: None
Comments: 253
Kudos: 146





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Depression is a fucking bitch. This fic is a direct result of my attempting to write while at my absolute lowest. Several months back, I jotted down the first three chapters in an attempt to expel this depression from my skull.
> 
> It failed. Thankfully, soon afterwards, I got back on my meds and life has been much better, though admittedly, one very important fic of mine had fallen off the radar. Yes, I'm talking about Worthy, which, believe it or not, I'm still working on. Progress is painfully slow, though, and every time writing stalled, this fic would get longer.
> 
> It's now up to 13 chapters and though it's still unfinished, I felt that posting _something_ was preferable to radio silence, even if this fic is a sharp departure from anything I've ever done before. But, considering the subject matter, I won't be insulted if readers give this a pass.

Coming to Blackwell was a fucking mistake.

Max always wanted to be a photographer and when she was accepted into Blackwell with a full scholarship, to learn under the famed Mark Jefferson, she had high hopes that her life would turn around for the better. It was such great news, her acceptance letter, that it even prompted her to try and text Chloe, her first and only friend from Arcadia Bay, to try and reconcile with her after being absent for so long.

She got no response.

Which, okay, was expected. Max was the one who drifted away, after all, only sending the occasional message every now and then, her anxiety preventing her from maintaining any significant lines of communication with Chloe. But she still hoped that after she got to Blackwell, she'd be able to speak to Chloe, try to mend bridges in person.

It took one short meeting at Chloe's place to discover that their bridge was well and truly burned.

Chloe didn't even let her in the house. Instead, she told her off right on the porch, cussing her out for abandoning her all that time. She stated, quite proudly, that she had a real friend and girlfriend, Rachel Amber, the most popular girl at Blackwell, and didn't need Max or her lame, half-stuttered apologies. She told Max to fuck right off and never show her face around there ever again. Max, utterly dejected and humiliated, left the Price household, never to return.

Life at Blackwell wasn't much better. Rachel was as popular as Chloe claimed and due to her influence, Max became _persona non grata_. Anyone who wanted to remain on her good graces pretty much shunned Max socially while Rachel herself flat-out ignored her, even though they shared several classes. Any hope that Max had about making friends at this school were thoroughly squashed since no one wanted to get on Rachel's bad side. And anyone who wasn't under Rachel's sphere of influence was almost certainly under another's.

Victoria Chase. Resident rich bitch, total bully, self-proclaimed Queen of Blackwell, photographer, and leader of the Vortex Club. She had no time for wannabe hipster trash with their shitty camera, lame fucking clothing, and lack of anything resembling skill, and made certain Max new it. In front of the entire Photography class. Again, she was completely humiliated. And abandoned. Because anyone who wasn't a friend of Rachel's certainly wanted to be noticed by Victoria, which meant another huge part of Blackwell's student population had cut Max off completely.

Being a social pariah wasn't a lot of fun but thankfully, there were a couple of people she could chat with: Kate and Warren. Neither had any interest in either of Blackwell's most popular cliques and would eat lunch with Max, talk after classes, and hang out occasionally. It was nice. The constant sniping from Victoria and the cold shoulder from Rachel did wear on her but she felt she could deal with it.

The party proved otherwise.

It happened Friday evening. Max had been invited to come to some shindig by Dana Ward, someone whom she was casual acquaintances with, despite the cheerleader being both, a member of the Vortex and a friend of Rachel's. Dana was nice enough and seemed genuine in her desire to get to know Max, which was a nice change of pace from everyone else. Max had declined the invite at first, knowing that despite the party not being on campus, members of both the Vortex and Rachel's cadre would be there, but Dana insisted, telling her that she'd do what she could to help smooth things over with both Rachel and Victoria. Max didn't think that was possible but gave in, half-hoping that Dana could work a miracle that would lead to things not being to fucking miserable in school. But when Max had gotten to the party, Dana was nowhere to be found.

She abandoned Max. At a party with all the cool kids. Which was about as much fun as she figured.

Max should've left immediately. Tried to, actually. But then, Nathan Prescott intercepted her. He was also a member of the Vortex Club and was a leader, like Victoria, but unlike the blonde, actually seemed sympathetic. He assumed, correctly, that Max didn't drink but didn't mock her for it. Instead, he handed Max a bottle of water, got her away from the loudest of the music, and they started talking shop about photography.

That's when things got... blurry.

Even now, Max couldn't recall exactly what happened that night. There were just vague impressions of being jostled and moved around, touching, hot bodies, more touching, loud noises that might've been music. Then silence. A low hum. A car engine? Being carried? Feeling cold. Flashes of light. Tugging. More touching. Bad. Pain. Gagging. A sharp sting. Then, nothing.

It was Kate who found Max slumped outside her dorm room around midnight. It was Kate who helped Max stagger into her room and slip under the covers. It was Kate who, after smelling the alcohol on Max's clothing, and knowing there had been a party that evening, texted her friends about what she discovered. And though Max wouldn't know until much later, it was Kate who inadvertently started a new round of rumors about her.

When Max had woken up early that morning and went to the bathroom, feeling sick and awful, what she found nearly made her scream. Her underwear missing. Bruising on her thighs. Dried blood.

Oh, god. No, no, nonononono…

She scrambled back to her room, barricaded her door, curled up in a corner, and panicked.

she never thought--

whywhywhywhywhy--

goddamnitshitshit--

She was in a fucking nightmare and couldn't wake up. The worst thing that could happen to her had happened. And she had no fucking memory of it.

whathappenedwhatthefuckhappened

whydidshesayyeswhy'dshegowherewasDana

whatifwhatifwhatif

what the fuck did she do now?

As fucked up as it was, asking herself that question actually calmed her down a fraction. Gave her focus. Because she knew what to do. Her mother, a rape survivor, had taught her. They both prayed it'd never be needed, but Max knew the next steps. And so, on quaking legs that threatened to give out at any moment, and fighting back a massive panic attack, stuffed a change of clothing into her carry bag and took herself to the hospital. To get examined. Which felt awful and disgusting and gross and finally pushed her over the edge into a full-fledged panic attack. But she got through it. Got dressed in her spare clothing. Went to the police station to file a report.

And was raped again.

They didn't believe her. It was painfully obvious. Young girl, party, probably drinking and doing drugs, got busy with some guy, and now regrets it. Claims she can't remember anything. And if she can't actually remember? Her fault for getting pass-out drunk. Deserved it. Wasting our time.

None of it was said out loud, of course, but she could read their looks. Their _male_ looks. Not one goddamn female officer in this godforsaken town. But, like the exam, she got through it. Filed the report. Despite them asking repeatedly if she was sure. She wanted everything on file. Wanted that paper trail. Wanted as much ammunition as possible. To fight. If her assailant was ever found. Because that's what she was taught. Because even if it was hard, she would fight.

Even if she had to do it alone.

She spent all day Saturday and half of Sunday holed up in her room. Never leaving except to use the restroom. She had enough snacks in her room to hold her over until Monday. She didn't feel like facing Rachel and her followers or Victoria and hers. Not after this. A couple people texted her but she closed the notifications without reading the messages. She just wanted to left the fuck alone.

Sunday afternoon, she received a call. From the police department. Asking her to come by. Which she did. Again, she took the bus as she had no car of her own. No one to give her a lift, either, not that she wanted company. But when she got there, the same officer from yesterday was there to berate her. Demanded to know why she was wasting their time. Stressed that filing a false police report was a punishable offense. And showed her a video he'd found online.

Max, at the party. Max, acting drunk. Max, kissing several different girls and boys. Max, behaving like the slut the officer believed her to be.

Distraught. Devastated. Crushed. Max wasn't sure what she said next, what the officer said in response. There was a screaming in her head that drowned out everything. Did she apologize? Did she recant her statement? She couldn't remember. But she very likely did as she was allowed to leave.

She walked back to Blackwell. Miles away. Numb. In shock.

Walked past all the open doors, past the looks, the smirks, the glares, the judgment.

Went to her room.

Closed and locked her door.

Crumbled to the floor.

Curled into a ball.

And wept.


	2. Nathan

Max missed her morning classes on Monday. She just couldn't bear to leave her room, not when everyone in the dorm was around to look and stare and insult and mock. Only after everyone else had left the dorm and the building had fallen silent was Max finally able to get ready for the day.

She spent a long time in the shower.

Eventually, Max made her way to the nurse's station, made up some excuse about being sick. The nurse took one look at her and didn't even question it. Max's pale and haunted appearance, the sheer misery that she radiated, was more than enough to convince the nurse to write up an excused absence for the first two classes. Once that was done, she went to try and grab a bite in the cafeteria.

That was a fucking mistake.

Bad enough that Max's anxiety spent all day convincing her that everyone and their brother was always making fun of her behind her back. But now, she didn't need it, not when she heard her own name on people's lips as she passed. Witnessed the soft giggles. Saw how the Vortex table pointed and laughed. Assholes. But none of that compared to the dagger to the gut Stella of all fucking people delivered the moment Max sat down when she asked, "So, what happened this weekend? Kate told us she found you passed out drunk outside your door."

Max failed to respond. Not verbally. Instead, she stared at Kate for several long moments. Felt her heart shatter as yet someone else betrayed her. Stood from the lunch table. Grabbed her bag. And walked away.

She entered her next class twenty minutes early, thankful it was completely empty, and sat at her desk. Stared at the walls. And tried not to cry.

Goddamn Kate.

Goddamn Dana.

Goddamn Victoria.

Goddamn _everyone_.

She didn't want to be here at Blackwell. Not anymore. She was so goddamn miserable. But what else could she do? She had to stay, try to study, try to graduate.

She had nothing else.

After Algebra came and went and Max entered Photography, the screaming her head had finally quieted, leaving a throbbing headache in its wake, which was distracting, but not debilitating. Max did her best to concentrate, to answer questions as they came, though she still got them wrong. But that's okay. Victoria was there to not just answer them correctly but rub it in Max's face.

In the middle of fucking class.

Bad enough that both Victoria and Rachel were in Photography, too, turning her favorite hobby, pastime, and greatest love into absolute torment, but to not even have the support of the teacher? To have him blissfully ignore the bullying and carry on like nothing happened?

Even Mark Jefferson abandoned her.

Fucker.

A piece of paper struck Max in the head, making her flinch. She glanced around and saw Taylor snickering at her. Christ. Whatthefuckever. Max swept the paper to the floor and did her best to focus on the rest of the lesson, which concluded a few minutes later.

At the bell, most everyone scattered, except for Victoria and Rachel, both of whom were in a race to see who could kiss the most ass first. Jefferson, from what Max could tell, ate it up on a regular basis but today, he apparently had other plans.

"Max? A moment, please."

Max shouldered her bag and shuffled forward, well aware of the glare from Victoria and the cold shoulder from Rachel. "Yes, Mr. Jefferson?"

"I still don't have your entry for the Everyday Heroes contest." He gave her a steady look. "You are aware that it's not just a perfect opportunity to get yourself noticed as a photographer, but also an assignment, correct? Your entry will be have the same weight as a test and will affect your grade this semester accordingly."

"I know." Mas cleared her throat. "I'll submit something soon. I just haven't found anyone that fits the definition of hero, that's all."

"Not even me?" Mark smiled at his own joke and waved that aside. "If there's no one here that can act as a personal hero, feel free to wander off campus to look elsewhere. Perhaps a police officer would fit your definition." He blinked when Max visibly flinched. "Is there something the matter, Max?"

Max clutched at her stomach and with a whispered, "I'm sorry, I have to go," hurried from class, bolted down the hall, tore into the girl's bathroom, slammed into a bathroom stall, and retched violently.

She had nothing in her stomach to actually vomit but that didn't stop her body from desperately trying. She coughed and gagged, the wave of nausea making her dizzy. When she was finished, she slumped against the toilet and just tried to breathe.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Slowly, eventually, she rose back to her feet and made her way to the sinks. The screaming in her head was back, just as loud as before. She spat into the sink before running the water and splashing her face several times, finally slumping forward.

Defeated.

She felt the burning behind her eyes and slammed them shut, clutching at her head.

Was it worth it?

Coming to Blackwell, was it really worth it?

To get shunned daily, bullied relentlessly, mocked constantly?

Was it worth getting raped?

Should she stay? Was staying here worth any fucking thing?

What did she have to look forward to? More suffering? More scorn, more hate?

Was anything worth it?

Was living... worth it?

Max reached forward and splashed more water on her face, then turned the faucet off. She tore several paper towels from the nearby dispenser and dragged them across her face to dry it. She blew her nose, lowered her hands, and blinked.

Movement. To her left.

She turned, surprised. There was a butterfly in the bathroom, flittering in from the A/C vent (?) and drifting towards the corner of the restroom. Max found herself following it, captivated. It was such a beautiful specimen and not like any other she had ever seen before.

Was it her imagination or were the butterfly's wings... glowing?

Didn't matter. A photo op like this doesn't happen everyday, no matter how shitty things were at the moment.

The butterfly had settled on the rim of a mop bucket, opening and closing its wings almost lazily. Max withdrew her camera and slowly approached the butterfly, crouching low. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world. Not her problems, not her hurt, her pain, her anger. Just Max, the photographer, and her subject, the butterfly. She framed her shot, held her breath, and pressed the shutter button.

Perfect.

Sadly, the moment was ruined when Max heard the bathroom door open and close. She quietly put her camera and new photo into her bag and held her breath, trying not to make any noise, and hoped that whoever it was would just hurry up and leave.

A bathroom stall door slammed open. "Where are you, Caulfield?"

Max blinked. Nathan? What the fuck was he doing in the girl's bathroom?

A second stall door slammed open. "Vic told me you ran in here."

Victoria? Fucking figured. Couldn't even shit in peace, apparently.

A third door slammed. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~"

Nathan was going to find her soon. Should she step out before that, find out what he wanted?

The last door slammed open. "Dammit. Where the--?"

Too late. Max blinked as Nathan stepped around the final stall and found her. She felt her skin crawl as he looked her up and down.

"There you are," he drawled out, a predatory grin growing on his face.

"This is the girl's bathroom," she said quietly. "You shouldn't be here."

Nathan barked out a laugh. "I can go anywhere I damn well please, bitch. In case you hadn't heard, I own this school."

Max had heard that, in fact. Rumor had it that Principal Wells was in Prescott's back pocket, which was why Nathan was able to get away with anything. Including trespassing. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Something about the way he was looking at her was creeping her the fuck out.

"Oh, nothing." Nathan crossed his arms across his chest. "Just wanted to invite you to the next Vortex party this week. You put on quite the show last one."

Max's stomach heaved at the thought of going to another party and shook her head. "No. Thanks. Once was enough."

"What?" Nathan put on an exaggerated look of surprise. "You mean you don't want to got wild with all the guys again? And girls." He grinned maliciously. "Didn't think you were bi but then again, with your looks, I don't blame you for having to bat for both teams to try and get laid."

"Fuck you," Max whispered as she moved to walk around Nathan and get out, anger warring with fear and anxiety.

"You already did."

Nathan's words turned Max's guts turned to ice. She turned her head towards him, any words she might've said getting caught in her throat.

"You weren't my best," he continued with a smug look, "but, hey, you should be happy. I like them skinny."

The screaming was back and drowned out whatever else he was saying. She felt her heart hammer in her chest as blackness crept in on the edge of her vision. Nathan's smug face floated in front of her as his mocking voice seemed to echo from far away. Her fear, her anxiety, her despair all spiraled around her, crushing her.

Until she saw Nathan reach forward.

Ba-bump.

Max's eyes zeroed in on that hand.

Ba-bump.

The screaming stopped. Everything stopped.

Ba-bump.

Even her fear, her shame, her misery. All of it, gone.

Ba-bump.

Replaced in an instant by something else, something deep and vicious and unforgiving:

Ba-bump.

Hate.

Max goddamn hated Nathan Fucking Prescott. And she was going to make him pay.

She whirled around, hand extended, and caught him right across the face mid-sentence. He was completely caught flat-footed and staggered to the side, then fell down when Max lashed out with a ferocious kick to his balls which dropped him like a sack of potatoes. He clutched his crotch only to get a foot to his mouth, his teeth, his face, his nose. He cried out and threw an arm around his head, only to receive flurry of blows to his stomach. He curled into a ball, trying to protect himself as Max stomped on his head, his side, his ribs, his back, his head again.

And through it all, Max said nothing. She didn't scream, didn't yell, hardly made a sound except for her labored breathing as she let out every scrap of anger and hate and rage at this godDAMN FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!

When she was through, and Nathan was a reduced to a quivering, whimpering wreck, Max turned and tore out another couple of paper towels from the dispenser to wipe her face clean of the tears and snot, then balled them up and threw them in his face. She grabbed her bag from where she dropped it and slung it over her shoulder, sucking in several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Which failed, but did give her enough focus to deliver a final message to her rapist. "You may own this school," she hissed, "but you don't own me. And while I know I'll get expelled for this, you'll have to live with the fact you just got your ass handed to you by a little girl. I only hope I live long enough to see you die."

With that, Max turned and stormed out of the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this Nathan is far less unstable than the game and revels in the power he wields thanks to his family's money.


	3. Powers

Max had barely made it 20 feet down the empty hall when she heard a door slam open behind her. She turned and saw Nathan, bleeding from his face and mouth, an eye swollen shut, one hand clutching his side, the other hoLDING A GUN?!

When Nathan caught sight of her, he jammed the gun in her direction and screamed, "YOU GODDAMN BITCH! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!"

Panicked, Max shot out her hand right just as he pulled the trigger. "NO!"

And time froze.

Literally.

For a split second, Max could see a bullet floating in the air halfway between her and Nathan, then, to her utter shock, it started moving backwards. Returned to the barrel of Nathan's gun. And vanished inside.

The reversal sped up and for a moment, everything was a blur. A backwards blur. That Max was still cognizant of. She felt herself back in the bathroom, felt the reversal of every kick she delivered, the water she splashed on her face, the heaving at the toilet, the dash to the restroom. And abruptly, she was back in class.

Max blinked as she looked around, then stared at her hands. What the fuck just happened? Did that just happen? Was she just in the bathroom? Did Nathan just try to shoot her? Did she go back in time? Or was that all a hyper-realistic hallucination brought on by stress?

She glanced around the room. There was Mark, in front of class, teaching like normal. Stella twirling her pen. Taylor balling up a wad of paper.

Taylor.

Hmm.

Max took a deep breath to calm her breathing, then turned away and waited. A flicker of movement and she felt the wad of paper hit the side of her head, then heard Taylor snicker.

Okay, so that happened. Again.

But did that also mean...?

Reaching out a hand, Max felt for that utterly strange sensation from before.

There, right on the edge of her awareness. She took a mental hold of it and gave it a gentle squeeze. And once again, she felt time flow backwards. Saw the wad of paper fly back to Taylor. Heard Mark's words in reverse.

Max let go.

Time resumed.

And this time, when the wad of paper came at her head, she shot her hand up and caught it in midair.

Without looking.

It was with a great sense of satisfaction that she turned and stared at Taylor, the blonde blinking in surprise, before she dropped the paper to the floor.

The rest of the class went on as before. She repeated her answer to Marks' query about her entry to the Everyday Hero contest, seeing no reason to change it, but this time, didn't flinch at his suggestion. "I'll consider it, Mr. Jefferson. But right now, I have to hit up the library for another assignment, if that's okay?"

"Certainly, Max. Take care."

Max nodded and left the class, then made her way down the hall. Rather than take the stairs to the second floor and the library, though, she continued until she exited the building from one of the side entrances. She didn't actually need to go to the library. She just remembered Nathan's words from before, how Victoria told him where to find Max. Now, if the blonde bitch spoke to or texted Nathan, he'd go somewhere she wasn't.

She really didn't want to deal with him a second time. And she had more important things to do, anyway. Namely, the hospital. The cops were fucking useless, bullies that they were, but she still had that rape kit done. And she needed it now more than ever.

Over an hour later, Max was getting off the bus at Blackwell, the sense of despair from Sunday back with a vengeance. She had discovered, to her utter shock, that there was no trace of her visit to the hospital on Saturday. The nurse she spoke to couldn't find any record of Max's name in the system, nor anything about a rape kit at all. The doctor and nurse who examined her were nowhere to be found (they didn't work the weekdays, apparently, and only commuted to Arcadia Bay to cover the weekend rotation) and the nurse wasn't sure what other hospital they worked at during the week, so contacting them was out. The page that would've had her name on the sign-in sheet was missing, and without a formal inquiry from the police department, there was no reason to check any security footage from that day to prove she was there. And that simply wasn't going to happen. Max already knew what they'd say if she asked.

Which meant the other rumors she heard were true: the Prescotts owned the city and not just Principal Wells. Fuck, that's why Nathan approached her in the bathroom! That smug son of a bitch! Max's hands clenched into fists as anger replaced despair. He knew she couldn't remember shit thanks to whatever drug he slipped her but that just wasn't enough. With his family's money and influence, they could ensure that anything that would paint Nathan in a negative light was destroyed. Like a rape kit. Or a police report.

Fucking cops. They probably knew what was happening already, which explained why they tried to pressure her into not filing in the first place. And then, after that video popped up, bullied her mercilessly into recanting her statement altogether.

Max entered the dorms and walked upstairs to the girls' floor, forcing herself to think instead of rage or cry. Part of her just wanted to collapse on her bed and never wake up, but, no. Fuck that. Instead, she entered the bathroom and washed her hands, using the time to push past the screaming in her head and focus.

Nathan Fucking Prescott. Rapist. Max wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't the only person he'd drugged and raped here at Blackwell. Maybe something to look into? His family's money owned the school, the cops, the city. Thought himself untouchable. Stupid. Max couldn't help but grin at the memory of his ass-whipping. Sure, it didn't happen this time and she did get lucky to catch him so off-guard, but to beat him until he was a sniveling, crying wreck was immensely gratifying. Couldn't do that again, though. He was actively carrying a gun around for fuck's sake, and could likely get away with murder. And, if Max hadn't had rewound time, probably would have. Hers, specifically.

She dried her hands, left the bathroom, went to her room, and locked the door behind her. Not that she expected any visitors but she wanted to guarantee her privacy. She sat at her desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and started planning.

Nathan was going to get his. She was going to make goddamn certain of that. But, even with her newfound powers (and where the fuck did they come from, anyway?), she as going to have to be careful. The Prescotts were powerful, at least in Arcadia Bay. So she couldn't make any overt moves. She'd have to be subtle. Ask around. Find out where he went, what he liked, what he did in his free time. And hopefully rewind time so no one was aware of what she was doing.

But why stop there? Victoria and her two lackeys, Taylor and Courtney, they certainly deserved to be knocked down a peg or three. They might be easier to approach, actually, since there was nothing subtle about them. Hell, they practically announced to the world their everyday plans. Maybe some good old fashioned sabotage might do the trick.

Anyone else?

Her brain immediately went to Rachel but she stopped. Getting back at Rachel meant the possibility of upsetting Chloe and, even if they weren't friends any more, she was loathe to do anything to upset the blue-haired punk. And it's not like Rachel was ever cruel to her. Not really. She just made damn certain that Max would end the school year with no friends whatsoever.

Maybe she could flip that around?

Low priority.

How about the police officers that blew her off? They certainly deserved something. Max just couldn't think of what at the moment, though. Not to mention the police were extremely dangerous. Trained professionals, armed, and she had already placed herself on their radar by filing a report in the first place.

Definite back burner.

But first, and probably most important of all, she needed to test her powers. Find out what she could do, what her limitations were. Everything she was planning hinged on them. It would majorly suck if her powers conked out in the middle of a scheme, leaving her ass hanging in the breeze. No, she needed to know everything about them. And soon.

She had a lot of homework to do tonight, and not just for school.

Max took a look at all of her notes, nodded her head, and folded the paper into halves until it could fit into her front pocket, then shoved it in place. She stood and slowly stretched her neck left, then right, popping some of the tension out. She took a deep breath, held it, and let it out, laser-focused for the first time in days.

Yesterday, as she cried herself to sleep, she had thought to herself that coming to Blackwell was a fucking mistake. And she still thought it was. Except now, she knew the truth: it was everyone else's mistake. And they were going to pay, if it was the last thing she ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in the fic's timeline, everything pointed to this becoming a vicious tale of Max using her powers to extract a bloody revenge on everyone who wronged her. Maybe that would've been satisfying in its own way. But, even at my lowest, that's not the direction I wanted to take this story. Chapter four altered things in my head, which, in my opinion, altered the story for the better.


	4. Observation

There was something different about Max now. Not that Dana could put a finger on what that was, exactly. She was still quiet, still kept to herself, stayed out of everyone's way, and would only ever be seen hanging with Warren or Kate after class, though she'd not been seen with either all that much recently. It's just that now, she was more... intense? About being quiet?

Was that even a thing?

Less seemed to phase her, too. Not like she ever seemed to react to Victoria's insults before but now, it's like she didn't even register the blonde's existence. Hell, she even walked right past Victoria once, mid-insult. Which was actually kind of funny, seeing the self-proclaimed Queen B of Blackwell standing there imitating a gold fish. No one else had caught it but Dana had.

She'd have to ask Max about it later.

But, yeah, during class, Max was incredibly focused on studying and taking notes. Always taking notes. Granted, they only shared one class but compared to how Max studied before, it was a noticeable change. Was that it? Was Max just knuckling down to study? Did she get called into Principal Wells' office about her grades or something?

Maybe.

Still, Dana's gut was telling her something else was up because after classes, Max could be seen wandering around campus, which was out of the ordinary for her. Usually, Max would simply return to her room and study or play her guitar until dinner, then return to her room and stay there for the rest of the night. Now, she was everywhere. The gym. The pool. The main building. The class rooms. The library. The parking lot. Hell, she even wandered to the track and football field once. She just never seemed to stay for every long. She'd just snap a few photos with her digital camera and leave.

Digital camera? Dana blinked. Yeah, that was different, too. Max still had her Polaroid, Dana had seen it often enough, but now she was also using a much smaller, digital camera, too.

Maybe it was all for some Photography assignment, then? And Max needed a lot of digital photos for it? Dana didn't know much about photography but figured that actual film for a Polaroid was pretty expensive, so maybe whatever assignment Max was working on was so broad she needed to save some money by using digital. And if Max was quietly intense, well, she was an artist, right? And artists were pretty intense with their work?

Yeah, that seemed the most likely.

Glad to have resolved at least one mystery about Max, Dana shut the door to her locker, turned around, and paused. Speak of the devil, there was Max, standing in front of the bulletin board, reading whatever announcements were attached. She waited for Max to glance in her direction and gave the photographer a small smile and wave, then was shocked when Max shot her a vicious glare. It was so unexpected, so hateful, that Dana actually took a step back. What th

<<<<<<<<<<//

She waited for Max to glance in her direction and gave the photographer a small smile and wave, and received a polite nod in return, before Max turned and walked away. Though Dana hoped for more, she also knew that she and Max weren't close at all. She'd lost her chance to break the ice with Max when she missed Friday's party. She hoped to have another chance soon. Sadly, it couldn't happen now since she had to get to the gym for cheer practice. Maybe later.

* * *

Max ducked around a corner and breathed, trying to calm herself. The urge to yell at Dana , to tear into her, nearly overwhelmed Max and she had to rewind just to school her features to something resembling politeness. Even if every part of her was screaming for her to do something.

No. Not yet.

Stick to the plan.

Watch and observe.

Listen and note.

Study and wait.

Their time would come.

All of them.

Soon.

* * *

Kate could admit when she messed up. At least to herself. And seeing how withdrawn Max was now, she knew she messed up bad.

When she found Max passed out right in front of her own dorm room, Kate didn't know what to think. Was she sick? Was she hurt? But she knew what to do. Help Max up and get her to bed. Like a good friend should. But when she smelled the alcohol on Max's clothing, she had been so shocked. Was Max really that type of girl? To go to those wild parties, to hang out with the bad crowd? To drink, even if she was under 21? She really thought Max was better than that, better than those other girls.

And that was the problem. Kate was thinking wrong. She shouldn't have thought things like "better" or "worse" because _all_ had sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Kate should've been the supportive friend and not passed judgment like she had, by texting Alyssa and Stella about what she found. Max didn't deserve that.

Sadly, the damage was already done. Rumors, her father had once joked, were the only thing that could fly faster than the speed of light, and Kate had inadvertently added to the one that Max got stupid-drunk at Friday's party. After all, if the uptight Christian said that Max had been drinking, well, it must be true, right? She felt terrible about what she had done and wanted to apologize to Max.

Who didn't want anything to do with her.

And that hurt.

Max had already declined two invitations to stop in for tea, saying she was busy. And maybe she genuinely was but there was hurt in her eyes. They no longer are lunch together. Didn't chat before or after class. She didn't chat with anyone, now that Kate thought about it. Not her, not with Alyssa or Stella. Just attended class and left right afterwards.

Did Max feel betrayed by Kate's actions? Very likely. Kate desperately wanted to make it up to Max but had no idea how. But, maybe she was thinking about this wrong yet again. Max didn't want to spend any time with her, so she should stop trying to force it. For now, she needed to apologize and that's it. Say "I'm sorry," and let Max know she can come over anytime to talk. Hopefully, Max would accept her apology. Kate would work on forgiveness later.

* * *

Warren glanced over to Max, confused. And a bit worried.

When he received her text, asking for his help, he didn't hesitate. Following her instructions, he left the dorms and met her outside at one of the various picnic tables that dotted the campus. One of the more remote ones. He could admit to himself that when he saw how secluded this particular table was, he had hoped for some good news.

That didn't happen. Instead, Max asked him to sit next to her, but not too close. "I just need a friend right now," she had said quietly. "Some friendly company. No words. No touching. Please."

She had sounded on the verge of tears when she said that, so of course Warren had agreed. "Sure. But, if you do want to talk, I'll listen. Okay?"

She had smiled at that, and it made Warren feel warm inside when she did. "Okay."

And so, they did. They sat. Spoke about nothing. Didn't touch. And yet, Warren wasn't bored. He may not have been the most observant guy on the planet but even he could tell something was up. There seemed to be a sense of anticipation in the air. Not _that_ sort of anticipation, he was sad to admit to himself, but something else. What, though, he couldn't tell.

Eventually, Max took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She turned to look at Warren and, again, gave him a soft smile. "Thank you. I know I'm being weird but I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"No problem." Warren sat up a bit straighter. "And, hey, if you wanted to hang out and not do or say anything with me again, let me know." He gave her a grin and tried to lighten the mood. "I can always score some tickets to the drive-in and we can do absolutely nothing to the tune of a _Planet of the Apes_ marathon." He knew he was going to get shot down and therefore, wasn't disappointed when Max shook her head.

"Too much going on with me right now to accept. Thank you, though."

And she smiled. That same soft smile as before, except this time, Warren finally, _finally_ , noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.

Max stood from the table and waited for Warren to do the same. "I'm going to head back inside. I have a couple of assignments I've been procrastinating."

"Sure thing. Want me to walk with you?" he asked. "No touching, promise."

"Thank you," Max replied with a soft nod.

The two walked back to the dorms in silence, Warren holding the door open for Max, who gave him a soft nod before walking up the stairs to the second floor. Warren gave her one last glance before entering the boys' floor and his room. He shut the door behind him, kicked off his sneakers, then dropped his ass down on his desk chair and thought. About Max. About how odd she was being compared to before. And how he had no idea what was going on.

It must've had something to do with the party Friday. Did something happen there? Well, besides the obvious. After seeing Max stagger around the party, kissing several different people, himself included, he just figured Max was finally letting loose, having fun, and couldn't hold her liquor at all. Which, as much as he enjoyed it, should've fucking clued him in, a lot sooner than now, that something was up. Even if Max was drunk, she obviously wasn't in control of herself. He should've done something, helped her out, got her to drink water instead, _something_. But, he'd been half-drunk himself and wasn't in the right state of mind to do anything but enjoy it.

Shit.

Uncertain what else he could do, he grabbed his phone and started texting Kate. Maybe she could help where he had failed.

* * *

Max sat on the toilet, feeling a bit bad about manipulating Warren like that, grilling him for information for over 20 minutes and rewinding so he didn't remember, but it did prove useful. Not that he knew too terribly much about Nathan and his habits (Warren tended to give him wide berth, a policy that Max couldn't fault one iota) but it's what he didn't know that actually helped. Nathan, apparently, would disappear from campus regularly, sometimes taking his car, other times, just walking away from Blackwell. He didn't seem to have a regular schedule for his disappearances but Warren estimated he was only in his dorm about half the time in the evenings, and never returned before midnight. Word on the street was he was getting resupplied with whatever drug of choice during those times but Warren didn't know for certain.

Victoria, he knew even less about but it was interesting to know that the two elites of Blackwell weren't hanging out together. Whatever Nathan was doing, it didn't involve the blonde at all.

Too beneath Victoria's notice? Did Nathan just not trust her with it? Max would have to dig deeper.

But, later. She wasn't kidding when she told Warren she had other assignments to do. And time powers weren't going to do the homework for her.

She finished up, washed and dried her hands, then returned to her room. She noticed Victoria's door was open and froze time, not wanting to get spotted and subsequently roasted. She knew that Victoria was likely watching for Max, itching to confront her again, especially considering that Max had utterly blown her off earlier today. Max just didn't want to deal with her yet so she quickly made her way to her room, locking the door behind her.

Max released her hold on time with a silent sigh. She hadn't had enough time to recover from all the rewinding from talking to Warren so freezing time was harder than she anticipated. But, it worked. Max took a further step into her room only to hear something crinkle beneath her foot.

Curious, Max looked down and saw a piece of paper on the floor she missed earlier. She lifted her foot and saw her name written on the outside of he folded piece of paper.

She recognized the handwriting.

Max reached down and scooped up the paper. She was tempted to just throw the note in the garbage but, shit. As angry as she was at Kate, she did miss her. Max had been blowing her off constantly, trying to hold onto her anger, but she also wondered what Kate had to say. She dumped her messenger bag on one side of her couch, sat down on the other, and unfolded the note.

> Dear Max,
> 
> I'm sorry. For what I did to you. For not being a supportive friend.  
> I made a bad assumption about you that you didn't deserve and spread that around, causing you pain.  
> I know you're angry at me and I deserve that. And I'm not asking for forgiveness as I haven't earned it. But if you find it in your heart to give me another chance, I'll be here for you.  
> I'm so sorry.
> 
> Your once and hopefully future friend,  
> Kate

Max didn't realize she was crying until her tears struck the page, making the ink run. She sniffed loudly, trying to keep it in, but knew she was seconds from losing it completely. She shot from the couch, grabbed her pillow from the bed, and buried her face in it even as she crumbled to the floor.

And bawled.


	5. Detonation

Max stood in the shower stall and let the water cascade down her body, half-heartedly scrubbing herself clean with a bar of soap. Kate's apology absolutely wrecked her last night and as a result, she slept like complete shit. She honestly had no idea what to do. Should she forgive her? Could she forgive her? Was Kate being truthful?

Shit. Of course she was. This was Kate. Probably the nicest person at Blackwell. One of Max's only friends she had left.

Was she still a friend, though? Max didn't know. Perhaps that's what the note indicated, that she still wanted to be one, even after what she did.

Could Max accept that? Or, could Max use that to her advantage?

Max shook her head as soon as she thought it. No, she couldn't. Not Kate. She was like Chloe in a way. Even if she hurt Max terribly, even if they weren't friends (still up for debate), Max just couldn't do anything to her. She liked her too much.

Fuck.

She finished up in the bathroom and returned to her room to get dressed, trying to shove aside her spiraling thoughts and think. What the hell classes did she have today? Not that it mattered. She wasn't able to do any of her homework last night so all she could do was hope her teachers were in a forgiving mood. But when she opened her door and saw her path blocked by none other than Victoria and her two henchmen, she knew her day had already gone to complete shit.

"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in."

Victoria's face was a smug as her voice.

"You're looking... blissfully disheveled this morning."

Fuck, she was reminding Max of Nathan

"Quite the show you put on at the last party,"

to the point that she barely registered the giggling from Courtney and Taylor.

"enough that Nathan asked me to extend a personal invitation to the next party."

The screaming was growing and Max closed her eyes, trying to tune it out. "No."

"What?" Victoria blinked in mock surprise. "You're declining a personal invite to attend a Vortex party?"

"Leave me alone, bitch." Max snapped her eyes open and shot Victoria a glare. "And get the fuck out of my way."

For a split second, Victoria blinked in surprise before she recovered. "Wow. Who knew that getting your cherry popped would grow you a spine?"

The mocking laughter from Courtney and Taylor was silenced when Max hauled off and delivered a vicious bitch-slap straight to Victoria's face, who staggered to one side and fell to the floor. Victoria, along with Courtney and Taylor, stared at Max in stunned horror as the normally meek hipster began screaming at the fallen blonde.

"You fucking _bitch_! How dare you! How DARE YOU!" Max took a step towards Victoria, who scrambled backwards. "I didn't have my cherry popped, you goddamn cunt! I. WAS. _RAPED_!"

If the sound of the slap and Max's screaming didn't immediately grab everyone's attention, _those_ words most certainly did. Max barely noticed when heads starting popping out of doors to stare. "Your goddamn 'friend' drugged my drink," Max yelled, "dragged me somewhere, raped me, then dumped me outside my fucking door! So, NO! I don't want to go to your fucking party! I don't want an invitation! I just want you to fuck right off and leave me alone!!"

Taylor shot Max a murderous glare even as she hurried to Victoria's side to help her up. "You're so full of shit, Caulfield! Everyone knows you were drunk off your ass that night. We all saw it!"

"You saw me drugged, you stupid fuck!" Max shot back. "THINK! When was the last time you saw me drunk at a party? NEVER! Thanks to her," Max shot a finger at Victoria, "and that bitch," she pointed at Rachel who had stepped into the hall, "I was never fucking welcome to one!"

"Then what the hell were you doing there Friday?" Courtney countered.

"Dana practically begged me to go with her! She said she was going to try and help me and instead, she fucking ditched!" She shot the cheerleader a murderous look that had her taking a step back. "So thanks a fucking lot!"

"You say you were drugged and raped," Victoria finally stated, her voice nowhere near as steady as she would've liked. "Where's your proof?"

"You mean other than the video you shot of me acting completely out of character? The one that should've been evidence to support me but instead was used to fucking crucify me in front of everyone?" Max slapped a hand to her chest. "Maybe the rape kit I suffered through Saturday would be enough for you? Two fucking humiliating hours of being touched and probed and questioned and photographed? Would that do it? Or maybe the police report I filed? Huh?! Would that be enough to satisfy your goddamn curiosity??"

Max stomped towards Victoria, who tried to back away but bumped up against the wall, allowing Max to jam a finger into the blonde's chest. "I'd be delighted to share the glorious details of what was discovered! Except I FUCKING CAN'T! The rape kit?? GONE! The police report?? They fucking bullied me into retracting it! So I have nothing! NOTHING! Except a never-ending nightmare of shit I can't even remember clearly!

"So while you stand there all high and mighty, looking your nose down at me, the useless fucking hipster who dared to show up at your goddamn school, ask yourself this: who the hell in Arcadia Bay as the power, the money, and the resources, to buy off the cops, to manipulate hospital staff into trashing evidence, to buy whatever drugs he wants, who brags about being able to go anywhere, do anything, with absolute impunity?" Max nodded slightly as she saw realization down in Victoria's eyes. "That's right," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. " _Him_."

Max finally backed away from Victoria, swiping her sleeve across her eyes to wipe her tears. She snatched up her messenger bag from where she dropped it, slung it back over her shoulder, then turned to Victoria. "Leave me the hell alone," she stated, her voice now dangerously calm, "and stay out of my fucking way, or the next time you get in my face, I'll let you live just long enough to regret it."

Ultimatum delivered, Max turned and left the girls' dorm, everyone giving her wide berth as she passed.


	6. Too Much

The moment the stairwell door slammed shut behind Max, Taylor turned to Victoria. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

Victoria didn't respond. She only reached up with her hand, hovering over where Max slapped her.

Courtney noticed. "C'mon, Victoria. We can go to the nurses station and then to Principal Wells, get Max expelled for sure."

"No!" Victoria whirled around to Courtney, then took a deep breath when she saw Courtney flinch away. "No," she repeated, lowering the volume of her voice to normal levels. "Don't report this. Don't spread this. Don't say shit about this. For now, keep it to yourselves." She looked between Courtney and Taylor. "Got it?"

The pair looked at each other, confused, before they turned to look at their audience. Their message was clear: it was going to be impossible to stop everyone from talking.

Victoria shook her head. "Look, just... don't. For now. Please."

That made the two blink. Victoria actually saying "please"? What the fuck...? But before they could say anything further, Victoria continued. "I'm skipping first period. Cover for me, okay?"

Courtney nodded. "Sure." Between herself and Taylor, they all had the same classes as Victoria. "But are you going to get that looked at?" she asked, motioning towards Victoria's cheek.

"Later." Victoria turned, unsurprised to see Rachel now hovering nearby. The two shared a long look before Rachel let herself inside Victoria's room. Courtney and Taylor were about to say something about that when Victoria followed her inside and closed the door behind her.

Uncertain what else to do, Courtney and Taylor shared a look then made their way out of the building, though they did catch Dana hurrying to Juliet's room, a devastated look on her face. They weren't sure what to make of that. But, because their backs were turned, they didn't notice the haunted look on Stella's face, nor the way Alyssa went to comfort her. If they had, they might've been able to start putting the pieces together.

* * *

Max had been sitting by herself in her empty class for nearly ten minutes when it abruptly dawned on her: why the fuck didn't she rewind that confrontation with Victoria?! She dropped her face into her hands and only barely kept from groaning out loud. It hadn't dawned on her to use her powers, she was just so fucking pissed off. And now, too much time had elapsed.

She scrubbed her hands across her face and took a deep breath. Fine. Whatever. She'd just have to roll with the punches. And if she got expelled, like she figured was going to happen? Well, she didn't need to be a student to get back at Nathan. She'd just have to be more cautious about everything.

Except, nothing happened. The teacher arrived, the room eventually filled with students, and class started like normal. That's it. No security. No Principal Wells. No announcements over the intercom to report to the main office. Nothing.

The lack of activity started making Max incredibly paranoid. Where was the summons? Where was security? The fastest way for Victoria to get back at Max for slapping the shit out of her was super obvious: report her to Principal Wells and get her either suspended or expelled. Except, that wasn't happening? What the hell was Victoria planning, then?

Max blinked as the answer came to her: Victoria was telling Nathan what happened. Nathan, who carried a gun to school. Who nearly shot and killed her Monday. Fuckfuckfuck! The fact that Nathan was skipping class today merely cemented the idea that he and Victoria were planning her demise. Max was going to have to be hyper aware of her surroundings now, more than ever. If she wasn't, she was as good as dead.

Her first two class periods were spent in a state of constant worry, with every moment she spent in the hallways a lesson in fear. She froze time to glance around more than a few times, though she had to be careful not to get too out of position when she released her powers. Others might notice otherwise.

When the bell rang for lunch and everyone else emptied into the halls, Max found herself with a really shitty choice: go to the cafeteria where Nathan could be waiting? Or hide in her dorm but risk being cornered by him there? What if he didn't, though? What if he asked Victoria to do his dirty work for him? Was she capable of murder? Max didn't know. But maybe, he'd ask Victoria to slip Max a drug and leave her for Nathan to find. To use. To rape. To kill.

Shitshitshitshit! No, she couldn't go to the dorms. And she couldn't stay here, either. The class was empty. Too few witnesses. She had to get out, get to somewhere with plenty of people. But, fuck, it's not like witnesses would help her. There were tons of witnesses at that party and none of them gave a shit about her then. They wouldn't give a fuck about her now, not Max, not the Whore of Blackwell. Nathan could shoot her in front of everyone and they'd probably just film the whole goddamn thing on their phones, laughing the entire time.

Max lurched from her seat and shoved her stuff back into her bag. She couldn't stay. He was coming. She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and hurried out of class. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, the screaming in her head was getting louder and louder, her breaths were growing more and more shallow. She staggered down the hall, clutching her bag to her chest, and tried to find the exit. She had to get out, had to leave, had to run, get away. Her vision was greying, tunneling, everything sounded so far away, her vision was fading just like before no not again she couldn't hear, couldn't see, pleasegodplease help someone please helpmehelpmehelp

A voice.

A touch.

she flinched away havetorunhavetogetawayvertigofallingfallingfalling

weightless

a voice

soft

caring

(caring?)

being lifted

being carried

did they care

did anyone care

if so

where were they

before

they werent there

before

they didnt care

before

they dont care

now

no one cares

no one

cares


	7. Vigil

"You swear you didn't know anything about this?"

"On my life. On my family's name. Even my camera."

"Okay." Rachel buried her face in her hands. "Okay," she repeated, her voice muffled. After a long moment, she heaved out a shuddering sigh. "Goddammit."

"Yeah." Victoria blew smoke out of her open window, not really giving a shit that smoking inside the dorms was against the rules. "And here I thought I was the only one..."

"Why didn't you do anything about this already?"

"Because I wasn't sure!" Victoria whirled around. "Because I didn't remember shit. Because I believed him when he told me it was just booze. Because it was just the two of us and he was my friend." She turned away. "He wouldn't take advantage of me," she said a lot quieter. "He was a friend. He wouldn't. I believed that. I had to believe that."

There was silence as Victoria took a long drag of her cigarette, held it, then blew out the smoke.

"I had nightmares for weeks afterwards," she admitted. "Sporadically, but each one still fucked with me. I didn't say shit to anyone, though. Who could I possibly tell? I spent a long time convincing myself I was wrong, that nothing happened, that what Nathan told me was true."

"And now?"

"Now? Hearing what Max screamed? And about not remembering?" She took another drag, her hand shaking. "I wouldn't be surprised if I started getting nightmares again."

"Same." Rachel hugged herself tightly. "I didn't believe him when he said nothing happened. I know my body, felt something was wrong. But, I was drunk. Or at least, I thought I was drunk. I told myself it was my fault for being stupid at a party. And, shit. He even called Chloe to come get me that night. A rapist wouldn't do that, right? So, if he copped a feel, maybe did more, well, it was his party and his booze, right? It was just the price of admission. And everyone knows Rachel Amber's an easy lay. So what's one more. Right?"

She didn't even realize she had started crying until Victoria handed her a box of tissues. With a wet, "Thanks," she grabbed several and wiped at her face. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

It took a couple of minutes for Rachel to regain her calm, during which Victoria finished her cigarette and immediately lit a new one. When Rachel rose from the sofa and reached out a hand, Victoria handed over her lit one, then lit another for herself. The two stood next to each other at the window, smoking.

"So."

"So."

"What do we do now?"

"No fucking clue. You?"

Rachel blew out a puff of smoke. "No ideas. Except maybe stop being so shitty to Max."

"Yeah."

Several beats of silence passed.

"Victoria."

"Hmm?"

"How many more?"

"I don't know. He couldn't do this at every single party, though. Someone would've noticed otherwise. Even his money couldn't cover up that many girls." Victoria waved her hand in the general direction of the main building. "But even if we knew how many, had a list of names, what could we do? He's a Prescott. Max was right: his influence is everywhere in the Bay. He's practically untouchable."

Rachel stared off into the distance, knowing that everything Victoria said was absolutely true. She didn't think her father could help either. He had taken a much better DA position in Portland and he and her step-mom had moved there (she had stayed at Blackwell as it was a good school, and to be close to Chloe, who still lived in Arcadia Bay) so his influence here was negligible. And she really didn't know if he'd believe her if she told him about what happened, especially as it had been a while.

The sound of the 10:55 bell interrupted both their musings. Rachel took one final drag before crushing out her cigarette. "I guess break's over."

Victoria crushed hers out, too. "Yeah."

They fell silent again, so many things on the tip of their tongues, but uncertain how to say them. Eventually, Victoria cleared her throat. "Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too."

* * *

Goddammit.

Dana shook her head, mentally apologizing to Kate. But she had no other words.

Just minutes earlier, she had seen Max stagger out of a classroom looking pale as death, shaking, sweating bullets, gasping for breath. She had hurried over, tried talking to her, tried to help, but Max had flinched away. God, the sound that came out of her throat was more akin to a wounded animal than a person.

Max tried to keep going but then her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she collapsed. Fortunately, Dana was close enough to catch her and, thanks to all the working out she'd been doing for cheerleading and swimming, was easily able to carry Max to the nurse's station.

She was inside now, recovering under the watchful eye of the on-duty nurse, while Dana sat outside. Waiting.

And worrying.

Dana had missed Friday's party and because of that...

Max was...

Goddammit.

She had her reason. And it was a really fucking good reason, too. But still.

After Max left the girls' floor, Dana had hurried over to Juliet, who pulled Dana inside her room, shut her door, then held Dana as she cried.

Her fault. This was all her fault.

Goddammit.

Juliet tried to comfort her, tell her it wasn't her fault. She didn't do _that_ to Max. It was someone else.

Nathan.

There was no mistaking who Max was referring to.

Nathan Prescott was a rapist?

God- _fucking_ -dammit.

He targeted Max at that party. Probably because she was alone with no one to protect her.

Dana should've been there. She would've kept watch over her, like Juliet and she did for each other. They'd been doing that for each other for a while now. It was something Juliet started years ago, and insisted they keep doing at every party they went to, Vortex or otherwise. Dana asked why a couple of times, to which Juliet had replied with "Can't be too careful," or "Just watching out for my bestie." She always said it with a smile, like it was just a game, so Dana never put much thought into it. But now, Dana was wondering if Juliet had a specific reason for being a worry-wart.

Was it possible that Juliet...?

Like Max?

...

Goddammit.

She'd have to talk to Juliet. Soon.

But not right away. Now, she wanted to keep an eye out on Max. Even if the girl hated her. But, hated or not, there was no way Dana was going to abandon Max again.

And so, she sat. And waited. For Max to wake up. So she could apologize to Max. Beg for forgiveness. She'd grovel if she had to. Because no matter what Juliet said, this really was her fault.

She wasn't there when Max needed her the most. And Max paid the worst price imaginable for her stupidity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter hinted at it but this one confirms it: Max isn't Nathan's only victim. Sadly, there are others.
> 
> Holding off on posting more for now.


	8. Recovery

Max woke with a start, jerking up-right, then immediately clutched at her head as a spike of pain erupted behind her eyes. She clutched at her head with one hand while keeping a firm grip on the bed with her other.

Wait. Bed?

"Max?"

The girl in question opened her eyes to see the school nurse standing close.

"You should really lay back down," the nurse stated as she approached. "I doubt you've recovered from your fainting episode."

"I'm fine." She actually wasn't but she was damned if she was going to lay back down.

The expression on the nurse's face showed doubt at Max's claim but she'd dealt with plenty of stubborn teens during her tenure and so didn't try pushing it. Instead, she asked, "Do you have a headache?"

"Yeah."

"Any allergies to any pain medication?"

"No."

"Then I'll bring you something for your head as well as some apple juice, since I think you may have low blood sugar, too."

"Okay."

Max watched her go, then blinked when she saw Dana standing just outside the door. She frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Dana shuffled nervously. "I was just making sure you were okay."

"Right," Max said with a shake of her head, then winced as the movement aggravated her headache.

"You should be grateful for your friend," the nurse stated as she re-entered the room with a bottle of apple juice and a small packet. "She said she caught you as you were falling, then carried you here. She's been waiting for you to wake up ever since."

That caught Max off-guard as she stared past the nurse at Dana. "Really?"

"Yeah." Dana shuffled again. "Can I come in?"

"Fine," Max replied after a moment, then took the bottle and pill packet the nurse handed her.

"This is a generic equivalent of Excedrin: bit of aspirin, bit of acetaminophen, bit of caffeine. It should work wonders for your headache. And try to drink as much of the juice as possible."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes."

When the nurse left, both Max and Dana spent a long moment simply looking at each other until eventually, Max sighed. "What do you want, Dana?"

"To apologize." Dana took a half-step forward. "For bailing on you. If I had been there..."

"Yeah, well, you fucking weren't." Max set the pill packet down on the bed next to her and opened the cap on the apple juice. "So thanks a lot."

"I'm sorry, Max."

"I am, too." Max tore off the safety seal on the apple juice, then stopped. Remembering...

"I know I promised to be there," Dana continued, not noticing Max's sudden trepidation, "but I got super sick that night and couldn't go."

Max snorted as she recapped the bottle, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "What, so you got a tummy ache and left your friend out to dry?"

Dana sucked in a deep breath and laid her cards on the table. "I had an abortion."

Whatever Max was expecting, Dana's soft admission certainly wasn't it. Stunned, she lifted her gaze and stared at Dana as most of her anger evaporated in an instant. "What?"

"Yeah." Dana looked away. "Logan and I, we've been messing around a while now. A few weeks ago, there was an accident and his condom broke. Guess I'm stupidly fertile because it took. My appointment was Friday afternoon, before the party. I was thinking I could go, get it done, then be back in plenty of time to meet you there."

She hugged herself close. "One possible side effect of the procedure is extreme nausea, though it's not super common according to the pamphlet I read. But I must've lucked out a second time since it absolutely destroyed me. Juliet was at my side the entire night, helping me as I puked up everything I'd ever eaten in my entire life, then kept trying. By Sunday, I had recovered like nothing ever happened, but because of that, I wasn't there for you like I should've been." She turned back to Max, her eyes glistening with tears. "And I'm so fucking sorry."

Max felt her own tears form and she swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. "God, Dana. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Not to me." Dana went to the paper towel dispenser over the sink in the room and tore out several sheets. "I don't deserve it."

"No, I need to apologize." Max took the proffered paper towels from Dana. "I spent so much time hating you, thinking you ditched me on purpose. Like, ha-ha, look at the school loser at the party all by herself." She blew her nose and wiped at her face. "I should've known better."

Dana cleaned herself up as well. "Considering how everyone's been treating you, I don't blame you for thinking that. Hell, I'd think that, too, if it were me." She sniffed. "I really did want to help that night, though. You may not believe it, but I did."

Hearing Dana's apology, the pain in her voice at failing Max, was more than enough for her to finally let go of the last remnants of hate she felt towards the cheerleader. "I do believe you." And honestly, Max did.

It wasn't forgiveness, not by a long shot (and she'd be damned if she'd actually ask), but knowing that Max believed her was a huge fucking relief. Dana took a deep breath and let it out. "Aren't you going to take those pain pills?" she asked.

Max glanced at the untouched pill packet. "I want to, but..." She motioned to the bottle of apple juice. "I'm scared to drink," she confessed quietly.

"How come?" Dana asked as she threw away her and Max's used paper towels.

Max licked her lips and swallowed the lump in her throat. "My last clear memory of the party was drinking out of a bottle," she whispered.

"Oh."

It took a couple of seconds but Dana finally discovered how she could start making amends. She took hold of the apple juice, uncapped it, then took a healthy swig. She stared at Max and after several seconds, smacked her lips and said, "Ah, tepid. Just how I like it."

Max's snort of amusement was both loud and completely unexpected. She clapped a hand over her mouth, stunned that she was actually able to laugh.

Dana gave Max a soft grin. "Go ahead and take those pills," she said, motioning towards the pill packet, "let them get to work, then we can grab a bite. I figure you haven't eaten anything yet and some food should help, too."

"Okay." Max tore the packet open with her teeth, then paused. "Thank you. For helping me and sticking around."

"You're welcome." And I'm never abandoning you ever again.

That part, Dana left unspoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 05/24/2020: [theunusualsuspect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunusualsuspect/pseuds/theunusualsuspect) made a suggestion in the comments of chapter 11 that I've implemented here, changing the timing of Dana and Logan's accident from "a week ago" to "a few weeks ago," so things make more sense.


	9. Talk

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," Brooke said with a nod as she stabbed her fries with a fork.

Warren glanced at his half-eaten burger, appetite completely gone. "I thought she was just, y'know, letting loose. Got a bit drunk, that's all."

"You and everyone else," Brooke replied, dipping her fries into some ketchup before taking a bite. "No one knew better."

"Damn." Warren rubbed at his forehead. "Then what happened last night makes more sense," he murmured partly to himself.

Brooke caught it, though, and bristled slightly. "What? What happened last night?"

"Nothing. Literally nothing. Max texted me to come outside and hang but when I got there, she asked for quiet company. No talking, no touching, no nothing. So, I just sat near her for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes, before we went back inside."

"Hmm." The fact that Max texted Warren irritated Brooke but if what Max said was true, then it would make sense that she'd appreciate some non-threatening male company who could be trusted to keep his hands to himself. "Okay."

"You sure you should be telling me this, though?" Warren asked as the thought occurred to him. "Seems really personal."

Brooke shrugged. "If Max wanted to keep what happened a secret, she shouldn't have screamed it in the middle of the girls' floor."

"But still."

"But nothing," Brooke countered. "No one asked me to keep it a secret so I see no reason not to talk."

"Maybe so, but the girls' floor isn't the entire school. Stuff could spread."

Brooke shrugged at that. "Everyone else is probably spreading it around right now, anyway."

"Really?" Warren glanced around, almost as if he was checking, but finally noticed something odd. "Wait. Speaking of 'everyone,' where are the others?"

"Hmm?" Brooke turned to her left, now realizing she and Warren were eating alone. She slowly pulled her fork from her mouth. "Huh. Dunno. Maybe they had stuff to do?"

"I guess." Warren pulled out his phone and started typing. "Let me try and find out."

* * *

The sound of Alyssa's phone chirping caught Stella's attention. "Who's that?"

Alyssa glanced at her screen. "Warren. Asking where we are."

"Please don't say anything about this."

"I wouldn't and I won't," Alyssa replied as her fingers flew across her screen. "I'm telling him something came up concerning Photography and I needed your help."

"Thanks."

Message sent, Alyssa put her phone back down and kept a watchful eye on Stella as her friend resumed her nervous pacing. "Are you sure I can't get you something? Lunch? Something to drink?"

Stella shook her head. "Stomach's shot. If I try eating anything, I'll puke it right back up."

Which is what Alyssa figured but she had to ask. "Can I do anything for you?"

"No." Stella let out a shuddering breath. "Not, like, I'm trying to be rude or anything and I appreciate you asking. I just..." She shook her head again and slowed her pacing. "I just need a friendly ear who won't blab to anyone else."

"So, not Brooke."

Stella snorted and almost smiled at the joke. "No. God. I swear that girl has zero filters about what's appropriate."

"You're right about that," Alyssa replied with a grin. A thought occurred to her a moment later and her face fell. "Oh, shit."

"What?"

"What're the chances she's telling Warren about what Max said?"

The very thought tied Stella's stomach into an even worse knot. "God, I hope not, but that girl can't stop herself from talking. Maybe Warren's smart enough to not say shit to anyone else, though."

"He has a thing for Max, so should keep quiet," Alyssa stated, then reached for her phone. "But I'll ask him not to. Don't worry," she said, anticipating what Stella was about to say. "I'm not going to say anything specific, just get confirmation that Brooke told him something that would be considered personal, then ask him to keep quiet about it."

A few moments later, Alyssa's phone chirped. "Yep, she did. But, he will."

"Thank God." Stella resumed her pacing, though slower this time. "I don't care who you are, no girl deserves that kind of exposure."

A knock caught the pair's attention. Stella halted and turned to face her door but her nerves prevented her from answering. Realizing this, Alyssa stood from the couch and approached the door. "Who is it?"

"Juliet. Is Stella there? I'd like to talk to her."

Alyssa looked to her friend, then back to the door. "Now's not a good time. Maybe--"

"Please," the voice interrupted. "I'm not here as a reporter or trying to be nosy or what. I just..." Alyssa and Stella both heard Juliet take a deep breath. "Sophomore year. Spring formal. There was an after-party." A pause. "And I don't remember."

When Alyssa glanced back at Stella and received a nod, she opened the door. Just outside stood Juliet, her face as haunted as her friend's. Wordlessly, she opened the door wide, letting Juliet step inside, then gently closed and locked the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original version of this chapter, Brooke was even less sympathetic to Max's plight, even stating outright that she didn't believe her and her claims of rape were likely a fake, attention-getting gimmick. This would lead to the fracturing of her relationship with Warren and her becoming _persona non grata_ to the girls' dorm at large, mirroring what happened to Max at the beginning of the school year. Tentative plans were also being made to have her be Nathan's next victim as a sort of poetic justice, too.
> 
> However, these plans were ultimately dropped as being needlessly cruel to both Max and Brooke. So, it was dropped in favor of a bit of what I'd consider in-character callousness by Brooke.


	10. Building Bridges

Max and Dana wound up missing part of their third period class on account of eating a late lunch, though they did have permission slips from the nurse so they wouldn't get docked. Dana had wanted to give Max a hug before they parted company but wisely asked permission first. Max declined the offer (emotions were still too raw) but took a rain check, which Dana gladly explained could be cashed in at any point, rain, sleet, or snow.

(Max gave Dana a tiny smile at that.)

The last class of the day, Photography, was... different. No cold shoulder from Rachel. No mockery from Victoria. Occasional glances from Kate, Alyssa, and Stella, but they weren't uncomfortable. If Max didn't know any better, she'd say that they looked like they wanted to talk to her but weren't sure how...?

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Tonight, at the Vortex Club's End of the World party," Mark began, "I'll be announcing the winner of the Everyday Hero contest." He motioned towards the class in general. "Thank you, everyone, for participating. I'll also be texting everyone the name of the winner just in case you don't like parties, which is the main reason I asked for you phone numbers in the first place. Remember, the winner of the contest will riding with me to the airport from here Friday morning. It's an early flight from Portland International so we must leave no later than 4:00 AM." He grinned at the groans from the class. "The road to fame is an arduous one, certainly. But I'm reminding you and my other class of this tidbit so you don't stay up too late at the party."

He raised his hand and pointed to the ceiling right as the bell went off. "And, that's it for today. Good luck, everyone, and no matter who wins, I'll see all of you back in class on Monday."

Max sighed as she started putting her stuff away. She'd turned in her photo to Jefferson back on Tuesday but knew she wasn't going to win. Arcadia Bay held no heroes, after all, only perpetrators, their supporters, and their victims. Her photo of a dying tree in the stark shadows of dusk was a reflection of that knowledge.

(Mark had called the photo sadly poetic. She had to rewind her gag reflex.)

She grabbed her messenger bag and shuffled out of class, thankful that everyone, even if they looked like the wanted to talk, left her alone. She didn't feel like going directly to her room yet but didn't feel like dealing with people, either. To that end, she made her way down the campus steps and, a few minutes later, was riding on the Academy bus. Destination: anywhere but here.

Max stared blankly out of the window, not really seeing the scenery go by. She'd normally try listening to some music to help pass the time but didn't feel like any of her current playlists. Nothing matched her mood, which teetered between viciously pissed and utterly miserable. For a moment, she considered finding some punk, but that just made her think of Chloe, with her blue hair and tattoo sleeve, and what an incredible fucking piece of shit Max was to her for all those years.

A tear slid down her cheek, which she wiped away. Great. Her mood was no longer teetering; she was just miserable.

She rode the bus as far as it would take her, zoning out and not thinking about anything, before it eventually looped back to Blackwell, stopping every so often to let passengers off and on. When it pulled up to the steps, Max got off and nodded to the driver, who waved in return. She made her way back to the dorms, grateful that her time away had cleared out the typical stragglers around campus, meaning she didn't have to talk to people. She entered the girls' floor and made her way to her room, wanting nothing more than to turn her brain off for a while longer. But before she could reach her destination, a gentle voice called out, "Max?"

She turned and saw Dana hovering halfway out of her doorway. "Hey, Dana."

"Hey, yourself." Dana shifted her weight slightly, nervous. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like some friendly company? My room or yours, whichever you're comfortable with."

"I don't..." Max started to reply automatically, when her voice trailed off. Did she want company? On one hand, she knew she wouldn't be good company. But on the other hand, she'd been stewing alone for days now, unable to focus on anything other than her own pain and her planning. And she didn't hate Dana, not anymore. Maybe some company would be okay.

Max nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said softly, the tiniest fraction of a smile growing on her face. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Dana visibly relaxed. "Cool." She motioned back to her room. "We can just chill for a bit, listen to some music. Or, I can put on a movie we can totally not pay attention to. Or, if you need to catch up on some reading or something, we can just have some quality quiet time together. Whatever you need."

All of those suggestions sounded nice, so much so that Max wasn't sure which one was best. "Let me go wash my hands and freshen up a bit, then I'll come over and we'll decide. Is that okay?"

"More than okay," Dana replied with a soft smile. "I'll be right here so take your time."


	11. Winner

"Party's starting soon."

"Yeah."

"Going or skipping?"

"Skipping. Definitely."

"Don't blame you."

"What about you, though? Going or not?"

Victoria huffed out a breath. "I have to go. Even if I don't really want to, I'm in charge of the Vortex Club. It's my party, essentially, and it'd be beyond suspicious if I suddenly ducked out."

"I get that," Rachel said with a nod. "Just, be careful, okay? Based on evidence, I don't think he'd do anything to anyone else so soon after the last party but I don't want you to take any chances."

"I'll keep myself sober, and if anyone asks, I have a test tomorrow that I don't want to flake out on."

Rachel suddenly smirked. "Man, who would've thought that you and I would actually be concerned for one another, right?"

"Yeah, it's a shocker all right," Victoria said with a slight grin of her own.

There was a knock on the door a moment before Courtney and Taylor rushed inside. "Victoria, we have a pro-- What are you doing here?" Courtney asked, noticing Rachel sitting on Victoria's bed.

"It's a private concern," Victoria answered firmly. "I'll tell you later. For now, leave it."

Courtney and Taylor glanced at one another, slightly confused, before turning back. "Yeah, okay."

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against her desk. "You were saying?"

"Right!" Recovering from her surprise, Courtney got back on track. "We have a problem: Stella's dropped out tonight. Says she caught some stomach virus or something and is feeling like shit. Alyssa's with her now, actually, and said it started sometime this afternoon."

"Shit." Victoria brushed her fingers through her hair. "Can you man concessions, then?"

Courtney shook her head. "I'm already on desk duty and Taylor's manning the door, so she's out."

Victoria grunted in displeasure. "What about Dana? She's got seniority in the club. She could technically do it."

"We just asked, actually," Taylor replied, "but she's not going and neither is Juliet. They didn't give any reasons, though." She watched as Victoria and Rachel turned to each other shared a long look. "What? What's wrong?"

"Tell you later," Victoria repeated, turning back to Taylor. "Just, for now..."

Taylor nodded. "Leave it, yeah, sure. No problem." She shifted from one foot to another. "But what're we going to do about concessions? We're out of options and the party's starting in half an hour."

"I could do it," Rachel stated as she stood from the bed. "I've done it before, remember? My only condition is Chloe's allowed to be there as my backup."

Victoria raised a "stop right there" hand to Courtney and Taylor, already anticipating their response to the suggestion. "Will she do it, though?" she asked Rachel.

Who grinned for the sake of her audience. "If I ask her nicely, promise her a couple of sexual favors, and there was, shall we say, 'proper incentive.'"

Victoria made a show of snorting in disgust. "I have no desire to hear about your degenerate tastes in sex, considering your taste in girlfriends. But fine. You tell her she'll get a dime bag as payment, on the condition she doesn't rob us blind."

"The good shit?"

"The _decent_ shit. You and I both know she's going to sneak in a drink or twelve."

Rachel conceded the point. "Deal. Let me text her, get her over here, and we'll see you at the pool. Say, fifteen minutes."

"Okay." Victoria turned back to Courtney and Taylor. "There. Problem solved."

"Um, yeah." Courtney looked between Victoria and Rachel, who was now texting Chloe, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, when Taylor placed a hand on her shoulder, preempting any questions she might've asked otherwise.

"Private concern, so just leave it," Taylor stated to her friend before looking to Victoria. "Right?"

Victoria nodded. "Right. For now, let's get out of here. We have a party to run."

* * *

For the first time in days, Max was able to actually focus on her schoolwork. Earlier, when she had thought about what she and Dana could possibly do together, she had a thought that this might be a good time to get caught up on all the stuff she had fallen behind on. Dana had no problems with this idea and actually tutored Max with a couple of assignments, for which Max was grateful.

She was just putting the finishing touches on her math assignment when her phone buzzed.

Dana lifted her gaze and saw Max unlock her phone. "Who's that?"

Max glanced at her screen. "It's Mr. Jefferson. He told us he'd text all of us the winner of the Everyday Hero contest after announcing it at the party, just in case some of us didn't go."

"Gotcha," Dana replied as she watched Max tap the notification. "Who won, then?" She blinked when Max noticeably flinched. "What's wrong?"

"It's--" Max quickly set her phone face-down on the coffee table. "Fuck. Nathan won."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Max shuddered. "I forgot that there are two Photography classes and he's in the other one." She blinked when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

Dana looked at her friend, concerned. "Tell me what you need," she said softly.

"I--" Max slowly shook her head and hugged herself tight. "I don't know..."

"May I hold you?" Dana waited patiently for Max to respond and, when she finally nodded, shuffled forward and gently wrapped her arms around Max. "I got you. It's okay, I'm here. Whatever you need. I got you."

Together, they stayed like that, Max hugging herself tight, Dana holding her close. When Dana heard Max sniffle, she reached across the coffee table, grabbed her box of tissues, and brought them close. "Here," she said quietly.

"Thanks..."

Dana loosened her hold to let Max blow her nose, but hovered close by. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"You can't," Max muttered. "No one can. And the only people who possibly could are in Prescott's pocket." She sniffed again and grabbed a couple more tissues. "I feel so goddamn alone..."

"You're not alone." Dana placed her hand on Max's shoulder. "I'm here for you, no matter what. I'm just sorry I wasn't there before. I could've prevented this from ever happening."

"Not your fault," Max said with a shake of her head. "It's all him. That bastard." She blew her nose again, then sucked in a deep breath. "I hope he rots in hell."

Dana gave Max's shoulder a slight squeeze before she let go. "I hope so, too. But, at least you won't have to worry about him for the next day and half. He'll be in San Fran, far away from here."

"Yeah." Max suddenly straightened as a thought occurred to her. "Yeah, you're right. He's going to be gone. Leaves at 4:00 in the morning and won't be back until Saturday afternoon."

Dana blinked at Max's abrupt change in mood, then blinked again when Max whirled to face her.

"What's Nathan's room number?"

"What?"

"His dorm. Downstairs. What's his room number?"

Dana shook her head. "I honestly don't know. But I could ask around, see who might. How come? Why do you want it?"

Max said nothing for a long moment, then raised her hand slightly. "Sorry, Dana."

<<<<<<<<<<//

"I hope so, too. But, at least you won't have to worry about him for the next day and half. He'll be in San Fran, far away from here."

"Yeah," Max said in agreement, her mind now working the angles and how she could use this to her advantage.

Dana tilted her head to one side, seeing Max think long and hard about something. "Anything I can do to help?"

Max turned and gave Dana a small smile. "You already have. Thank you."

"You're welcome."


	12. Blast to the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to TheCortex, Chipposy, Peregrine2K, Apex_Primus, LtDax, theunusualsuspect, II_Codyz_II, Stretch802, Hopeful_monster, MininSnow, YkIh, simpletextadventure, Zandy83, MindSetOnMars, PatsyPStar, ciembi, candancejade, softami, Castroy, MindKnox, Darkmatter2001, Riflux, LanelLabatDubelais, redbird691, and TheEndlessMajestic (and all guests) for giving this fic a chance. It's honestly gotten way more traction than I ever anticipated, especially considering the subject matter, and for that, I'll be forever grateful.

Max stayed with Dana for a while longer that evening and discovered to her quiet delight that Dana was not just a really good listener but also a great hugger. She was attentive, gentle, and so wonderful to be around, almost like Kate, actually, but would always ask before reaching out physically. Max wasn't used to being hugged but derived an almost absurd amount of comfort from just being held by Dana, so much so that she almost didn't want to leave.

But, she had to. Not only was it 9:00 and the End of the World Party was winding down (meaning there'd be way more activity in the halls, something Max wanted to avoid at all costs), she also had something rather important to do. Specifically, plan a break-in.

Nathan was going to be gone for roughly 36 hours. She absolutely couldn't let this opportunity pass her by.

And so, once she made it back to her room, she planned. On paper and in her head. Worked the angles. Considered worst-case scenarios. Changed plans accordingly. Tried to come up with the best approach that would have the highest probability of success.

When she settled on one, though, she ran into a problem. Namely, what to do if she actually found something? She couldn't report him to Principal Wells. Not only was he in the Prescott's pocket, she'd have to explain how she knew about said evidence in the first place. An anonymous tip? No, that would be ignored by Wells and the police definitely wouldn't do shit. Turning said evidence straight to the police would find it destroyed within the hour, so that was out. A state trooper, perhaps? Maybe the FBI? But how could she attract an outside agency's attention in the first place? And would they actually help? Max didn't know how it all worked but she'd seen a few buddy cop TV shows in the past, and one thing that cropped up from time to time was the hero being out of their jurisdiction, unable to do anything.

That might be the case here, too. Which would explain how the Prescotts got away with as much as they did. If they owned the cops and no one made waves, there was no need for an outside agency to investigate in the first place.

Letting out a frustrated growl, Max stood from her desk and stepped over to her photo wall, not really seeing anything. She felt so fucking helpless. All these powers (from where? how?) and she still couldn't figure out what to do. No matter what angle she looked at, nothing seemed like it was going to work. Was she going to have to drop this completely? Ignore what happened to her because she couldn't prove shit? Let Nathan get away with everything?

And what about after high school? Would Nathan keep things up in college, drug and rape girls there? Very likely. Would Prescott money reach that far? Undoubtedly. The news was chock full of stories about college guys getting away with rape with barely a slap on the wrist, and Nathan was just like them, meaning white, male, and rich. There was no justice for people like them. Certainly none here in Arcadia Bay.

A specific photo on her wall caught her eye. It was taken last Wednesday morning, two days before the party, and way before class even started. She had opened her window to let in some cool air and as luck would have it, a very curious and brave bird had landed right on the window sill, looking for food. She had just enough time to snap the photo before the bird took flight, but the resulting picture was a great one. At the time, she thought that the photo op was a good sign that things were finally looking up.

How fucking wrong she was.

She plucked the photo from the wall and stared into it, growing more and more angry. She was warring between keeping the photo (it was a good shot) and setting it on fire (it was a painful reminder of what happened later that week) when suddenly, the photo seemed to... quiver? Max blinked, rage leaving her momentarily, then furrowed her brow. The longer she focused on the photo, the more surreal things became. She could swear she could feel a breeze from the window (which was closed), hear the morning song birds outside (it was evening). There was a pulling sensation

<<<<<<<<<<[X]

and the next thing Max knew, she was lowering her camera, now standing at her window, the bird from the photo taking flight.

She looked around, wondering what the fuck just happened, while absently taking the photo out of the camera and holding it in her hand. Things were slightly out of place compared to what they were five minutes ago. And if that wasn't weird enough, sunlight was pouring in through the window when it had just been dark. She glanced down and gasped.

Sleep shorts. Sleep shirt. No jeans, no socks, no sneakers. She was dressed for bed, not the day. And that's when it occurred to her: she wasn't dressed _for_ bed. She was dressed after she had woken _from_ bed. Somehow, she was in the past, Wednesday morning of last week. Before the party.

Mostly.

Taking a better look outside, Max could see an unusual haze blocking the normal view of the courtyard, though when she glanced straight down, she could see part of the sidewalk and yard like normal. A border, perhaps? Does that mean she was confined to this area?

She hurried to her door and opened it, then glanced down the hall in both directions. She could clearly see Brooke, Victoria, and Kate's doors, but past that, the haze was present. And... moving? Max squinted. Yeah, that haze seemed to be inching closer. A look in the opposite direction confirmed the border seemed to be getting closer.

Max ducked back into her room, closed the door, and took a few deep breaths. Okay, so she was in the past. Traveled through the photo she had taken. There was a border around her that kept her in one location (presumably, anyway; it wasn't something she was eager to test at the moment).

Another power of hers? What could she do with this? She wasn't sure, and thanks to the encroaching border, she knew she was on a time crunch.

Or was she?

Hmm.

Max went back to her window, made a note of the border's current position, then rewound time (it still worked). When she released her power, she saw the border was back to its starting point.

Excellent. This meant that if she photo jumped (sounds good, let's call it that) again with a different photo, she'd have plenty of time to do whatever.

But the question remained: what could she do right now?

The answer came to her in a flash: maybe she could warn herself to not attend the party! Changing things likely wouldn't affect her memories of the event but it was something, right?

Right.

Okay, but how? The only think that came to mind was writing herself a note. Would that work? Maybe. She'd have to convince herself it wasn't some freakish practical joke, though. What could she write to convince--

Max snapped her fingers and couldn't help but smirk slightly. If this didn't do it, nothing would.

She sat at her desk, withdrew a piece of printer paper from her drawer, then wrote:

> Max,
> 
> This is going to sound unbelievable but I swear it's true. I'm you from 10 days in the future, writing you a warning. I know you won't believe it at first, probably thinking this is some sick joke played by Victoria and her cronies, but if the handwriting doesn't clue you in, I know something that will:
> 
> Kristen. A sleepover at her place. _Room in Rome_. The subsequent "experimental phase."
> 
> You know damn well that we didn't tell anyone about that, and Kristen's at West Point, so she can't possibly write this.
> 
> Convinced? Good.
> 
> Here's the warning: don't go to the party this Friday. Dana will ask again today, she'll tell you that she'll be there for you, but you must decline. It's important. Be nice to her about it, though. She's a good friend, way better than we originally thought. Shocking, I know, but it's true.
> 
> Just, don't go.
> 
> Oh, and destroy this note after you've read it. We don't need anyone getting more ammunition to use against us, after all.
> 
> Max (+10 days)

With a nod, Max attached the note to her laptop screen with a piece of Scotch tape, knowing she always surfed the 'Net before getting dressed. Then, not wanting to confuse her past self any more than necessary, she retook her starting position at the window, camera and the photo in hand, and waited for the border to close in on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to canon, the timeline in this story is a bit accelerated, but Max photo jumping to change things is something I absolutely wanted to include. Consider it a brief interlude to the events of the rest of the story.
> 
> What happens next? I'm not going to keep you in suspense. The next chapter should post shortly.


	13. Butterfly Effect

[X]>>>>>>>>>>

Max blinked, then felt her clothes. T-shirt, jeans. Not sleep clothes. A glance out the window showed it was nighttime again.

Did it work? Or was all of that a hallucination?

She wasn't sure. She remembered what had happened to her before, not the changes she made (if she actually managed to change something anyway, which was still up in the air). A couple things in her room were in slightly different positions than she remembered but that wasn't exactly conclusive. She pulled out her phone and flipped through her saved messages to see if Dana had texted her about the party, perhaps asking Max to reconsider, but found nothing. That really didn't mean much, though, since she and Dana didn't text much. Oddly enough, there were a lot of messages from her mom and dad. Curious as to why, she tapped on her father's saved messages.

 **Pop**  
Maxine. Pop here. I'm sorry I haven't gotten in touch sooner. We know she was your closest friend at Blackwell.

 **Pop**  
Let us know if you want to come back home, get away from things for a bit. And if you maybe want to go to a high school around here, the door is wide open. Love, Pop

 **Me**  
Thanx Pop. I haven't decided yet but coming home for a while is really tempting. I'll let you know.

 **Pop**  
Given any more thought about coming home?

 **Me**  
Yeah. It's been really hard here even before what happened, so I've been seriously considering it. But I also have a scholarship here. I don't know.

 **Me**  
And I don't even know if transferring is possible this late in the year.

 **Pop**  
Let me check with your mom about that. I'll be back.

 **Pop**  
Okay, we made a few calls, spoke to a few schools, talked to Principal Wells, and if you want, we can get you transferred to Shoreline by next week Wednesday. No academic penalties at all.

 **Pop**  
Wells was very understanding of your situation and promised to do everything he could to make the transfer as smooth and painless as possible.

 **Pop**  
You can even sign the exit papers at home and fax them over Monday.

 **Me**  
Okay.

 **Me**  
Yeah, I've thought it through and it's long since time I left. I've honestly had it with here.

 **Pop**  
Why? What's wrong?

 **Me**  
I'll tell you later, okay?

 **Pop**  
Okay.

 **Pop**  
I'll be there Saturday morning to get you moved out. Pack what you can until then.

 **Me**  
Thanx. Love you.

 **Pop**  
Love you too Maxine.

Max blinked. A transfer? That last message was dated today, too, which meant that her dad was going to be here in two days to pick her up. But, why? What the hell was going on?

She tapped her mother's messages to try and get a better idea.

 **Mom**  
We're so incredibly sorry for your loss, Maxine. We know how much she meant to you.

 **Me**  
Thanx Mom. She was honestly my only friend here.

 **Me**  
I keep thinking that if I had just gone to the party, at least she'd be alive.

Max felt the blood drain from her face, a sense of panic filling her. Her only friend? That could only mean--

Dropping her phone, she bolted to her door, wrenched it open, then felt her heart shatter.

Right outside of Kate's door.

Candles. Flowers. Cards.

Kind words written on the dry erase board.

It was a tiny memorial. To one of the sweetest, most gentle person Max had ever known.

Kate was... dead?

Max didn't realize she had walked over to the memorial until she dropped to her knees in front of it. Her mind was racing. Remembering...

Kate, the first friendly person she ever spoke to at Blackwell.

Kate, who opened her door to Max, figuratively and literally.

Kate, who had tea dates with her, chatted with her, made her smile so much.

Who Max had completely blown off after what happened, kept ignoring her even after she got Kate's apology letter, too unsure what to do, too hurt to think about it.

And now, it was too late. She was dead.

But, how? What the fuck happened?

The sound of a door opening caught Max's attention. She blinked the tears from her eyes and turned her head to see Victoria stepping out of her room. The pair locked gazes for a moment before the blonde hurried past the memorial, her face withdrawn. And... something?

Max slowly stood and used her sleeve to wipe at her eyes. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that Victoria looked guilty. But that didn't make any sense. What could possibly make Vic--

She gasped as realization struck like a bolt of lighting. There was definitely one fucking reason Victoria would look guilty as hell, and if she was right...

Turning, Max marched down the hall towards Dana's room. If she didn't go to the party, did Kate go instead? And if what happened to her happened to Kate...?

She barged Dana's room and saw the girl sitting alone on her couch. "Dana!"

Dana whirled around, shocked at how pissed Max looked. "What? What's wrong?"

<<<<<<<<<<//

Try that again.

She stepped into Dana's room and saw the girl seated on her couch, alone. "Dana."

Dana turned to her, blinking at Max's serious expression. "Max? What's wrong?"

"I need your help. It's important. Life or death levels of important."

 _That_ got Dana's attention. She straightened and asked, "What is it?"

<<<<<<<<<<//

No need to be intimidating, not with Dana. Instead of barking out questions, Max eased herself down on the couch, to get on eye level with Dana, then softened her voice. "I need you to give me a timeline of exactly what happened with Kate since Friday. Everything you know. No matter how insignificant."

"Okay...?" Dana scrunched her face in confusion. "But, why?"

<<<<<<<<<<//

"Because I have a suspicion that Kate was drugged at the party," Max stated, taking a stab in the dark. "But I need more info."

"Oh, shit." Dana looked downright horrified at the very idea. "Are you serious?"

Max's heart plummeted at the involuntary confirmation but she kept her gaze steady. "Extremely."

"Okay." Dana's brow furrowed as she thought back. "Well, a couple of days before the party, I invited Kate to come along. She was reluctant, like you were." She paused. "No offense."

"None taken."

"But I was able to convince her come, break out of her shell a bit, live a little. She only went because I told her I'd be there as well, to keep her company." Dana looked away, her face pained. "But, I wasn't able to make it."

"Because your abortion made in insanely nauseous," Max stated with a nod.

Dana whirled around. "How did you know abou

<<<<<<<<<<//

"She only went because I told her I'd be there as well, to keep her company." Dana looked away, her face pained. "But, I wasn't able to make it."

Max nodded, knowing the reason why. "And then?"

"And then, come Sunday, there were whispers floating around about Kate getting crazy drunk at the party, kissing guys and girls both. I didn't want to believe it because it was so unlike her. But then, I saw the video."

 _Another_ goddamn video!! Max had to fight to keep the rage out of her voice. "And then you believed it?"

Dana nodded slowly, her eyes beginning to glisten. "With everyone in the video cheering her on, it seemed like she'd gone a bit overboard with the beer and was just having fun." A tear fell down her cheek. "But she wasn't drunk," she whispered harshly. "She was drugged. Dammit..."

Max watched Dana wipe the tear away. "What happened next?"

"What do you mean, 'what happened next?'" Dana demanded, suddenly getting upset. "You were there! Everyone was! She climbed to the roof of the dorms and jumped!" She sniffed loudly. "She killed herself because everyone bullied her, spreading that video around!"

<<<<<<<<<<//

"But she wasn't drunk," she whispered harshly. "She was drugged. Dammit..."

Max fell silent for several moments, fighting to maintain composure. "Does anyone know what happened to Kate after the party? As in, when did she leave, who she left with, anything?"

Dana shook her head. "I don't know. I can ask around, though, see if anyone remembers."

Unlikely. Everyone was probably too drunk and/or high to recall the details of the party itself, much less what happened after. But Max was painfully aware of exactly what did happen to Kate. And how much she would have suffered afterwards. "Any ideas who brought her back to the dorms, or when?"

"No, sorry."

Which figured, but Max really couldn't blame Dana for that, since it likely happened in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. "Okay." She stood from the couch, ready to get back to her room. "Thanks, Dana."

"Do you know who did this?" Dana asked before Max could leave. "Who drugged Kate?"

There were so many things Max could've said, kind things, cruel things, scathing things, vindictive things, but it occurred to her that absolutely none of it would matter in about five minutes. So instead, she said, "As soon as I have proof, I'll let you know."

She made her way back to her room, heart heavy but determined. She knew what she had to do. Grab that photo she used before. Jump through it again. _Don't_ write that note to herself. So she could go to the party instead of Kate. Put things back to the way it was, as it should be. Max already carried the nightmare of the rape and the aftermath, so changing things back wouldn't affect her in the slightest, but it would save Kate's life.

It was a small price to pay.

<<<<<<<<<<[X]

[X]>>>>>>>>>>

Kate was seated at her desk, reading her Bible, when someone knocked on her door. Curious as to who might be visiting this late, she stood, made her way to her door, and opened it. And blinked. "Max?"

"Hey, Kate." Max shuffled in place. "Can I come in?"

Though surprised, Kate didn't hesitate to open her door wider. "Certainly."

"Thanks."

Once Max stepped inside, Kate closed her door, then turned around. "What--" She didn't get a chance to finish before she was wrapped up in a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry," Max whispered, voice quivering with barely restrained pain. "I'm so fucking sorry, Kate. For ignoring you. For neglecting you. You don't deserve that."

Kate returned the hug and held on just as tight. "No, Max, I'm the one who's sorry. You have nothing to apologize for. What I did to you was so wrong, hurt you so badly." She sniffed, suddenly overcome with emotion. "I deserved it. And I'd do anything to make it up to you."

Don't say that. Don't say anything like that, ever. I don't want you to die. I want you alive and well and happy and here. And if that means I have to suffer, then I'll suffer. So that you can live.

Max didn't say that aloud. Couldn't. But she could forgive.

And so, she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the altered timeline, Nathan taunted Kate just like he did Max. However, unlike Max, Kate didn't rage. Instead, she despaired until she saw only one way to end her suffering. And, tragically, she took it.
> 
> Chapter 14 is getting tweaked, chapter 15 is getting worked on, chapter 16 is being planned. More to come.


	14. Calm Before the Storm

It was rough as hell waking up at 3:30 in the morning, especially considering just how late she was up last night with Kate, chatting and making up with her. But Max was on a mission and come hell or high water, she was going to accomplish it.

To that end, she had slept with her ear buds in so the phone's alarm wouldn't alert the entire floor. Once awake (and trying not to bitch aloud about that fact), she got dressed in her darkest clothing, then snuck out of the girls' dorm, being mindful of any nighttime security patrols and, of course, her target:

Nathan Fucking Prescott.

15 minutes later, her silent vigilance was rewarded when she heard the main door to the dorms open and close. From around the corner, Max watched as Nathan made his way down the sidewalk, small suitcase in hand, and headed towards the parking lot. She waited until she heard a car start before she made her way to the lot herself, ducked behind a parked car, and rewound.

She had to be sure he was gone. No mistakes, no assumptions.

From her new vantage point, she was able to witness Nathan greet Mark with a nod, dump his suitcase into the open trunk of the car, then drop himself into the passenger seat, closing his door quietly. Mark, in the meantime, closed the trunk, took a long sip from travel mug, and climbed into the driver's seat. A few moments later, the two were pulling out onto the street and were soon out of sight.

Still, Max watched and waited. For the car to turn around, for Nathan to change his mind, for an emergency to crop up, anything.

10 minutes.

20 minutes.

30 minutes.

Nothing.

Max let out a soft sigh. The coast was clear. He was gone. This afternoon, she was breaking into Nathan's room. Of course, she still needed to get his room number but she'd figure that out later.

After she got some more sleep.

* * *

Max was finding it tough to stay awake throughout the day. Staying up late with Kate then waking up at ass o'clock were definitely taking a toll on her. She wound up drinking a lot more soda than normal just stay vertical.

Thankfully, outside of feeling slightly jittery from all the caffeine she'd been consuming, the day went surprisingly well. Rachel and Victoria both were still treating her way better than before (Max still wasn't sure why but decided to enjoy it for however long it lasted); Nathan was fucking gone, so the constant anxiety she felt at possibly running into him was missing; she was once again able to hang out with Kate; and to top things off, she received a pleasant stream of texts from her various friends and acquaintances throughout the day, which did wonders for her mood.

Dog, she almost felt normal for the first time in weeks.

After the 4:00 bell went off, signaling not just the end of class but the start of the weekend, Max was packing her bag when Dana, seated next to her, turned in her direction. "Hey, Max?"

"What's up?"

"I nearly forgot that there's a home game tonight, so I'm not going to be around for half the evening." Dana looked concerned and apologetic. "Do you think you'll be okay? I promise I'll stop by when I'm finished."

Max smiled softly. "I'm sure I will be. Thanks for asking, though."

"Sure thing." Dana slung her backpack over one shoulder and waited for Max to grab her own bag. "Any plans tonight?"

You mean outside of breaking into Nathan's room, Max said to herself. She shook her head. "Not really. I'll probably veg a bit, maybe take a nap. I'm beat."

"Late night?"

"Yeah. Kate and I stayed up way past our bedtime, making up."

Dana had heard from the grapevine about their falling out. It was yet another thing she was partly responsible for. But. "I'm glad to hear that. I know you and she were close, so it's good that you're back together." She paused. "Not _together_ together, just, you know, together. As friends?" She rolled her eyes at herself. "Gah! Ignore me. I can't word today."

Max snickered. "I understand what you mean. And I agree. It feels good to have that connection again. It's like what we have now," she finished, motioning between herself and Dana.

Who couldn't help but smile quite warmly at the compliment. "Awesome."

The two walked side by side in companionable silence the rest of the way to the girls' floor, though Dana could tell that something was on Max's mind. Thankfully, she didn't seem troubled, worried, or scared, so Dana felt comfortable with staying quiet about it, figuring that Max would talk when she was ready. She reached her door and, thinking that Max was going to continue to her room, turned to say goodbye, but was surprised when Max spoke first.

"Dana?"

"What's up?"

Max shifted from one foot to the next. She knew she was terrible at shit like this, but also knew she really, really needed to say it. "I just wanted to say thanks, for being there for me. I know I said it earlier but I really mean it."

"You're welcome," Dana replied with a warm smile.

"And," Max continued, "thanks for being my friend." She shuffled in place. "I, uh, don't have a great track record with being a good one back but I'm going to try. For you and Kate, both. Promise."

While Dana was a bit confused at the confession, she knew exactly how to respond. "Did you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

"Maybe later. If that's okay?"

"Absolutely," was Dana's easy reply. "Whenever you're comfortable."

Max gave her a relieved smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

No hugs were shared this time, but Dana did give Max a soft touch to her shoulder, which helped keep Max's smile going as she went to her room, closed and locked the door, and plopped herself down on her couch.

Dana was rapidly becoming one of her favorite people at Blackwell. Their friendship started off tenuous, understandably, but seemed to be growing stronger as time went on. Max couldn't help but wonder, though, if Dana was only being friendly to her now out of a sense of guilt. Maybe. And if so, she should be ready for the friendship to fizzle out at any point.

Except, she really didn't want to. It felt nice to have a friend outside of Kate and Warren, and Dana was being so understanding about things now. Hence, the reason she wanted to work at maintaining their friendship. After all, they probably wouldn't have become friends at all unless this fucking disaster happened to her, right?

Actually, maybe. If Dana hadn't gotten sick and was able to come to the party last Friday, things could've been different. Dana was sincere about her desire to help Max that evening. But even if she wasn't successful at talking to Rachel or Victoria that night, maybe they could've spent their time together instead, talking, hanging out, getting to know one another. As popular as she was, Dana certainly didn't seem to give a crap about losing any standing with either Rachel or Victoria right now, so maybe a real friendship could've blossomed between them that night.

Too bad there wasn't a good way of knowing for certain. Yes, Max could go back through another photo and try to change things to achieve that outcome, but not only would she not actually remember the changes herself, defeating the purpose of the jump in the first place, she also couldn't predict what would actually happen when she changed things. Kate was irrefutable proof of that. No, best to not take any chances. As fucked as it might be, this was how things had to be. She'd just have to deal.

Max let out a mighty yawn, then shook her head. Damn. She really wasn't going to last much longer. Pulling out her phone, she set an alarm to go off in a couple of hours. Her plan was to take a nap, wake up, get some dinner, and then, when the football game was in full swing, she'd break into Nathan's room. Hopefully, enough people would either be at the game or have already travelled home for the weekend and there'd be far fewer witnesses around.

And as for getting his room number, she had the perfect idea on how to get it. But, first thing's first: a power-nap.


	15. Breaking and Entering

The sense of helplessness was suffocating in its intensity, to the point that Rachel wrenched her dorm window wide open and stuck her head out, sucking in several deep breaths. She wasn't surprised to feel a gentle hand touch her back a moment later.

"Take your time," Victoria said softly. "We're here for you."

Rachel nodded. It took her several long moments to get her breathing back under control, during which Victoria hovered nearby, keeping her grounded with her touch (something that would've been unfathomable mere days ago). She pushed herself upright and turned, seeing the same pained and haunted expression on Stella and Juliet's faces that was on Victoria's. That was on her own. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't," Juliet said with a shake of her head. "Don't apologize. Not here, not to us." She glanced over to Stella, who was scrubbing at her face behind her glasses. "We understand."

Nodding again, Rachel stepped over to her bed and sat on the edge. "It's just, everything hit me all at once. You said you told Dana," she said, looking at Juliet, "and Alyssa's helped you," she continued, looking towards Stella. "But I never told Chloe. Not yet." She clenched her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "I kept thinking that if I just ignored it, it wasn't real, and I wouldn't have to tell anyone."

"You don't have to," Victoria stated quietly. "It's completely your choice. I've been considering telling Taylor and Courtney, at least, but..." She looked out the window. "They wouldn't judge me, I know they wouldn't, but part of me is scared shitless anyway."

"I told Dana because she halfway figured it out on her own," Juliet admitted. "Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd ever would've been brave enough to say it out loud."

"It wasn't bravery for me," Stella stated as she dropped her hands in her lap. "I was just too fucking scared to handle it myself. I told Alyssa because she was the only person I could trust to be there and not judge me." She wrapped her arms around her knees and curled into a tight ball. "For two weeks straight, I couldn't sleep unless she was there holding my hand." She lowered her head to her knees. "If she wasn't there, every time I closed my eyes, I'd see flashes of light and a dark shadow looming over me, like a goddamn boogeyman. And she was my teddy bear."

"Chloe was mine," Rachel admitted. "That's why I snuck her inside so often, why I crashed at her place so much." She blew out a slow breath. "Before all this happened, if I couldn't sleep, I'd sometimes pop a Unisom or something like it. But..."

Victoria nodded. "Yeah. The only time I tried one myself, that unnatural drowsy sensation freaked me the fuck out. And even after I passed out, I kept jerking awake, fighting it the entire night."

The four fell silent, all remembering their pain and fear from "that night," how they were feeling it again, ever since Max raged in the hallway. Eventually, Rachel took a shuddering breath. "I want to tell Max. I will tell Max," she corrected herself, "but I won't say shit about any of you. I swear."

Everyone else looked at one another, slowly coming to a decision. "I can't say I'm comfortable with telling anyone about this," Stella began, "but Max is in this, too. She needs to know she's not alone."

"Same," Juliet said with a nod.

Victoria nodded as well. "I'm in agreement, but I also have a favor to ask." She turned to Juliet and Stella. "When we go talk to her, could one of you take the lead? While I don't _think_ she'll murder me, I really don't want to take that chance."

Stella managed a half-grin at that. "After that ultimatum, I don't blame you. But yeah. We'll take point" She turned to Juliet. "Right?"

Juliet nodded. "Sure. But, it'll have to wait until after the game. I have to head over there now, actually, put on my reporter hat. Anyone joining me?"

"Hard pass," Rachel said with a shake of her head. "Not feeling crowds."

"It's not a Vortex thing, so I'm out, too," Victoria stated.

"I hear you." Juliet stood and took a deep breath. "Be back later."

Everyone else gave her quiet goodbyes as she left the room. After a couple of moments, Stella stood from her seat. "Since Alyssa's at the game, I'm going to head to my room, barricade my door shut, and try to turn off my brain for a couple of hours."

"You're welcome to stick around, if you don't want to be alone," Rachel offered, then nodded to Victoria. "We'll just be hanging out, not doing much."

"Together?" Stella asked, mildly surprised despite herself.

"We can hardly believe it ourselves," was Victoria's reply, "but yes."

After a moment, Stella nodded. "I think I'll take you up on that, then. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

After her nap, which did wonders, Max grabbed a to-go meal from the cafeteria, locked herself in her room, and ate. She attempted to kill time by doing some homework or reading her assigned book, but her concentration was shot, so instead, she wasted her time on YouTube, letting the algorithm decide what to play next. Once the football game was in full swing, she took a selfie (her reset in case something went horribly wrong), then made her way down to the boys' floor, and listened carefully. As she had hoped, there wasn't a lot of noise or movement on the floor, indicating it was mostly empty.

There was one person she knew was still around, though, and without further ado, she approached room 109 and knocked.

A couple of moments later, Warren opened his door and blinked in surprise. "Max!"

Max winced internally at his wide smile. Now was _so_ not the time. "Warren, I need your help. It's important."

Warren straightened slightly at the seriousness in Max's voice. "Sure. Whatcha need?"

"What's Nathan's room number?"

"111," Warren answered automatically, then blinked in confusion. "Why do

<<<<<<<<<<//

Mentally apologizing to Warren, Max approached room 111 and tested the door. As suspected, it was locked. She looked around for anything that could help her get in, then spied the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall. Could she brute-force her way in?

One way to find out.

It took three solid blows against the door handle before the cheap aluminum finally gave way, and Nathan's door swung partly open. Max dropped the fire extinguisher at her feet and quickly let herself inside.

<<<<<<<<<<//

She glanced at the door handle, now reattached, and nodded. That also meant the fire extinguisher was back where it belonged, meaning there was no evidence of her break in. And since she rewound to before she bashed in the door, the noise that might have attracted Warren's attention never happened.

She was in the clear. Time to get started.

Max looked around, taking in the décor, the dark lighting that was present (even though Nathan wasn't around), the BDSM imagery mounted on the walls, and shuddered. This place gave her the fucking creeps. The sooner she searched, the sooner she could leave and take a long shower. She started with the nearby dresser, pulling the drawers completely free and up-ending their contents over the bed. Clothes. More clothes. Sex toys. Condoms. Lube. Nothing significant, and nothing taped to the bottom of the drawers. She shuddered again, then stepped to one side and rewound everything back where it belonged.

She moved onto the closet next, being quick but thorough. Coats. Slacks. Shoes. Camera tripod. Other photos and posters not yet mounted on the walls. Again, nothing.

Rewind.

The desk. Homework, notebooks, textbooks. No journals, meaning he either didn't keep one or took it with him. But she did find Nathan's gun, hidden in the back of one drawer, along with a box of ammunition and a spare magazine, fully loaded. Deadly, but not what she was looking for.

Rewind.

She checked the underneath the bed (another pair of shoes, a lot of dust), then lifted the mattress off the box springs (a stash of porn mags).

Rewind.

The bookcase was filled with a side selection of Blu-Rays, books, and magazines, some pornographic and fetishistic in nature, most not. She wasn't as thorough here since she didn't have the time to search through every single item, so instead, she swept the shelves clear, looking for anything hidden behind all the crap, everything falling into a messy pile onto the floor. Again, nothing. One rewind later and the shelves were completely restocked and untouched.

Max felt a slight twinge in her nose, indicating that she didn't have a lot of rewinds left. She grimaced, irritated she hadn't found anything yet. There had to be something here, she was sure of it. Too bad his laptop wasn't around but he probably packed that for his trip.

She looked around one more time, trying to determine if she had missed anything, when she noticed some scuff marks on the carpet, right in front of the couch legs. She was no Sherlock Holmes but knew the marks meant the couch had been pulled away from the wall repeatedly. Was there something hidden behind it? She grabbed hold the arm and pulled the couch from the wall, then checked.

A couple of manila envelopes taped to the back rungs. A plastic bag with pills. Another small one filled with white powder.

Jackpot.

She ignored the drugs (though she wasn't surprised to see he was a user) and took hold of one of the envelopes, tugging the tape free. She noticed it had some heft, and when Max shook it, heard what sounded like papers inside. The shape was wrong, though. Feeling from the outside, they felt more like index cards. Or--

She fought down a wave of nausea. Or, perhaps they were photos.

Hands shaking slightly, Max undid the top flap, and pulled the contents free. And almost dropped them.

Photos. Of herself. Unconscious. Stripped bare. Lewdly posed. Defiled.

Horrified, she flipped through more of the photos, seeing herself again and again, until she reached the end.

And saw Stella's face.

The photos spilled from her trembling fingers as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground.

Not just her.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

The screaming was back. She clutched at her head, fingernails digging into her scalp.

He--

He did that.

He raped her.

And he photographed her.

Her and others.

So many fucking others.

That goddamn sick fuck.

Tears spilled from her eyes as she looked at the photos scattered all around.

Stella.

Juliet.

Rachel.

Victoria.

Other girls she didn't recognize. Before her time? Outside of Blackwell?

She didn't know. But she wasn't the only one. And that knowledge made her sick.

How long? How many?

Max bit back a sob, still trying to stay quiet, and pulled herself upright. She stumbled over the pile of photos and went back to the couch.

She had to know what else he was hiding.

The second envelope didn't contain photos. It was too light for that. She tore it open and dumped whatever was inside into her waiting hand. And nearly puked.

It was a pair of panties.

Hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, everyone, for continuing to read this story. As always, comments and speculation of what happens next are most welcome.


	16. Evidence

Bigfoots - 13  
Cobras - 7

Tonight's game was hard fought but ended in victory for Blackwell. And thank God for that! The Cobra defense was absolutely on point, meaning that the scores were tied for nearly the entire game. But thanks to a one-in-a-million interception by the Bigfoot defense, they were able to take the lead, then hold it for the remainder of the 4th quarter.

Most of the team, along with the cheerleaders, had scurried off to the gym showers, eager to rid themselves of the worst of the sweat, dirt, and grime from their bodies before heading off to a celebratory dinner/party. Some headed to the Two Whales. Others, to Fat Jake's Pizza (open late on Fridays for this very reason). And more than a few went to various homes to celebrate in a more private manner.

Dana, however, opted to skip all of that. Citing exhaustion, she peeled away from the group and headed to the dorms, eager to get cleaned up and changed into something a lot more comfy than her cheerleader uniform. But more importantly, she wanted to ensure that Max was okay. She made a promise to check on her after the game and was determined to keep her promise.

She glanced over to her escort and smiled. "You didn't have to come with me, you know. I bet Zach would've loved your company after a big win."

"The last couple of times I did, the big lug conked out before we could do anything heavier than kiss," Juliet explained with a shrug. "And besides, I just wasn't feeling it tonight."

"Any particular reason?"

"Yeah." Juliet cleared her throat. "I plan on talking to Max tonight."

It took a second for the importance of Juliet's words to hit, but when they did, Dana reached over and took her friend's hand in hers. "Do you want me to be there for you?" she asked softly.

Juliet gave Dana's hand a grateful squeeze. "If it was just going to be me and Max, yes. But--" She cut herself off abruptly. "Shit. Forget I said anything."

"Wha-- Oh." Dana slowed to a halt, Juliet stopping as well. She gently tugged Juliet's hand until she turned towards her. "Jules? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Juliet turned away, unable to face her friend. "It's not my place to say," she said quietly. "Please don't ask."

Dana slowly nodded at the non-admission. Fucking hell. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Can I give you a hug?"

Instead of answering, Juliet simply stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her best friend, who returned the gesture. The pair stood together in the quad for several long moments, one seeking comfort, the other providing it. Eventually, Juliet gave Dana's back a couple of pats, then pulled away. "Thanks."

"Always." Uncertain how to proceed, Dana tried for a bit of levity. "Sorry I smell bad, though."

To Dana's relief, Juliet smiled softly. "No worse than me, I'm sure. The one person in a crowd of a few hundred who smokes cigars, and he found me."

"Ugh." Dana made a sympathetic face. "God, that must've sucked."

"Not as much as his attempts at flirting," Juliet replied, taking hold of Dana's hand and walking them both to the dorm. "Not the creepiest guy to ever hit on me, but damn, he was persistent. I had to make my way to Mr. Madsen to finally shake him loose."

"For once, I'm glad we have such a hard-ass as head of security."

"You and me both."

When they reached the girl's floor, Dana turned to her friend. "If you ever need to talk..."

"I know," Juliet replied. "And, I just might take you up on that really soon." She gave Dana a smile that was almost like her old self. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Dana gave Juliet's hand a final squeeze before letting go. "Let me go check on Max, then I'll get cleaned up and wait for you to stop in."

"Okay."

The two split up, Juliet heading to her room, Dana heading to Max's, whose door was open slightly. Seeing that as a good sign (Max had been sealing herself shut in her room for the past week), Dana gently knocked, then pushed the door open further. And froze.

Photos. Dozens of photos, scattered all across the floor. And in the middle of the mess was Max, looking absolutely haggard. But even worse than that was the blood that was smeared across her upper lip and cheek. "Oh, God, Max?!"

Max didn't reply. As Dana watched, Max lifted one of the photos to her face and stared at it for a couple of seconds before dropping it to the floor with a grunt. A trickle of blood leaked from her nostrils which she wiped away on her sleeve. A sleeve already smeared red and brown. "...goddammit..."

Not knowing what was going on but wanting to help, Dana hurried inside and knelt next to her friend. "Max, what's wrong? Why're--" She glanced down and froze a second time, finally getting a good look at exactly what was on the photos.

Max.  
Juliet.  
Victoria.  
Rachel.  
Steph.  
Others.

Clothed. Nude. Posed.

And worse. So much worse.

"Oh, God." Dana's hands flew to cover her mouth. "Oh, fuck. Is that--? What's--?"

"I can't go back."

Dana whirled around at the raspy voice to see Max pick up another photo. "I keep trying, but it's no use," she continued almost to herself. "I'm drugged. So when I try, I lose consciousness until time runs out and I snap back." Another trickle of blood leaked from her nose, which she ignored. "I tried the others but it doesn't work." She dropped the picture and stared at nothing. "I hoped it would. If I couldn't save me, then maybe I could save them. But, it won't work because I wasn't there."

Having no idea what the fuck Max was rambling about, but desperate for answers, Dana placed her hands on Max's shoulders and turned the girl to face her. "Where did you get these?"

"Nathan's room," was Max's tired reply. "Broke in. Found these. Found his fucking trophy." She snickered, a mirthless and brittle sound. "And I can't do anything about it. He won. He fucking won."

"What are you talking about? Max, if this is evidence, you can turn it in. Get him arrested. What--" A bark of laughter cut her off.

"'Turn it in?'" Max repeated, her eyes finally beginning to focus. "To who? The cops? The ones his family's bribed to actively protect them? The ones that forced me to recant my report?" She shot a glare at Dana. "But maybe I should try Principal Wells instead, right? Oh, but wait, he's in Prescott's fucking pocket, too!" She jammed a finger in Dana's face. "Who, then? Who the fuck can I go to with this, huh?! NO ONE! I'm fucked!" She furiously swept her arm over the photos. "WE'RE fucked! Damned if we do, damned if we don't! Because even if we found someone who believed us, they wouldn't be able to do shit, either!"

Falling back from Max's rage, Dana was spared from trying to reply when she heard a loud gasp. Recognizing the voice, Dana scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the door. "No!"

It was far too late. Juliet had already seen the contents of the photos and had turned pale as death. Dana caught her just as her legs gave out, then carefully lowered both of them to the floor. "I got you, I got you." She held on tight as Juliet trembled in her arms but blinked when more people walked past her and into the room, only to come to an abrupt halt.

Max grimaced as Victoria, Rachel, and Stella stared at the tableau in front of them in varying states of horror. This is _so_ not what she fucking needed right now. She braced herself against her couch and hauled herself to her feet, only to have a wave of vertigo drop her ass onto said couch. She had really pushed herself over the last hour and was paying the price.

"Max??" Stella found herself rooted to one spot, unable to step further into the room. "What the fuck--? Where did you get these?"

"Where do you think?" was Max's curt reply as she clutched at her head. "I knew Nathan was hiding something so I broke into his room and searched it."

"And you brought everything here? Instead of calling the cops?" Rachel's voice was growing louder and more shrill. "What the fuck were you thinking!?"

Max didn't get a chance to reply. To her utter surprise, Victoria of all people turned and grabbed hold of Rachel's shoulders, and quite firmly ordered her to "Calm down!"

"Calm down?! CALM DOWN?!" Rachel broke free from Victoria's grip and shoved her away. "Don't you fucking tell me to calm down, you fucking bitch!!"

"Goddammit, THINK!" Victoria hollered back. "Didn't you hear Max? Who the hell could she have gone to in Arcadia Bay that would help? The cops? The Principal? WHO?"

For several tense moments, the pair glared at each other with most everyone else fearing the two would come to blows. But then, Rachel let loose a loud sob and collapsed to the floor, burying her face in her hands. "...fuck fuck fuck..." She didn't resist as Victoria dropped to her knees next to her and wrapped her into a hug.

"I got you," Victoria whispered. "Shh. I got you."

Stella stared at the mountain of photos scattered across the floor. It was one thing to imagine the horror of what happened that night. It was entirely different to see actual evidence of her rape. And not just hers, either. She looked to Victoria and Rachel, then to Dana and Juliet, then back to the photos. "Jesus." She lowered herself to the ground and, perhaps out of a morbid sense of curiosity, started gathering up the photos of herself. "Jesus Christ..."

"I'm sorry," Max mumbled, still holding her head. She needed more time to recover before she attempted to use her reset photo. "I didn't mean for you to see any of this."

That statement made Stella whip her head around, an irrational wave of anger tearing through her. "You didn't mean--" She caught herself mid-snarl and slammed her eyes shut. Fuck, fuck! Stop! This isn't Max's fault. This was none of their fault! It was that fucking bastard, Nathan! No one else.

Max managed to open her eyes and see Stella on the ground, trembling with rage. She knew that feeling quite well. "I was going to put everything back, so Nathan wouldn't suspect anything," she half-lied. "I just lost track of time."

Stella reached up and wiped away the few tears that spilled free. "But why?" She opened her eyes to stare at Max. "Why take them at all if you weren't going to turn them in as evidence?"

"I needed to know," Max answered as she dropped her hands to her lap. Her head had finally cleared up enough that she felt comfortable attempting a photo jump. "I had no idea there were others, though. That you guys were also..."

"Yeah," Victoria said, still holding onto Rachel. "That's what we were coming over to tell you tonight. That even if we can't remember what happened, you weren't alone. That we're here for you, even if some of us were colossal cunts to you since the beginning of the year."

"Really?" Max asked, disbelief in her voice.

"Really," came Rachel's tremulous reply. She cleared her throat and finally lifted her gaze to meet Max's. "We're so sorry. And we know you probably won't forgive us, but we mean it."

Max honestly didn't know how to react to that, though now that she thought about it, it would explain why she and Victoria had been treating her relatively nicer the past few days. That meant there was a good chance they were being genuine. "You're right that I can't forgive you yet," she quietly replied, "but I do accept your apologies." She closed her eyes and sighed. "There're much bigger things at stake now."

Rachel nodded at that, then sniffed loudly. Hearing that, Max opened her eyes, grabbed her box of tissues from her desk, and handed it to Victoria. "Here."

"Thanks."

While that was going on, Stella had turned her attention back to the photos in her hand. She flipped through them slowly, both seeing and not seeing their contents. Where were these taken? The lighting and the all-white background made it appear like a photo studio of some sort, but where? It couldn't have been Blackwell. They didn't have anything this clean. She flipped to the next photo and had to fight back a wave of nausea. It was a photo of herself, unconscious, as Nathan loomed over her...

...

Wait.

Stella blinked.

There was something really wrong about this photo.

"Um."

In the stillness of the room, Stella's quiet utterance caught everyone's attention. They all turned to look at her, even Max, who held a Polaroid in her hand. "What's wrong?"

"It's--" Stella shook her head slightly, still staring at the photo. "Something's not right. In this picture. I know it, but I can't tell, exactly."

Everyone huddled on the floor leaned in closer to see what Stella was talking about. Max, too, stepped up and peered over Stella's shoulder to examine the photo in question. Unlike the others, who were still in varying stages of shock, Max had spent the better part of an hour staring at each and every one of these photos, and was partly desensitized to their content, meaning she could focus her attention elsewhere. She narrowed her gaze, attempting to examine the photo as a photographer rather than a victim.

Suddenly, she saw it.

And gasped.

Everyone turned to face her. "What?" Victoria asked. "What is it?"

Max pointed towards the photo, her hand trembling slightly. "That photo..." She swallowed. "It was taken over Nathan's left shoulder. From behind."

They all stared down at the photo, finally seeing what Max had pointed out. Juliet shook her head at the realization. "No, no, no..."

"A second photographer," Max concluded, her voice trembling with barely-repressed rage. "Goddammit. Nathan's not alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of advice: if you have a choice in the matter, don't get depression. It really sucks. I suppose I should be happy, though. This most recent crash only lasted 3 weeks (with medication) while previous bouts lasted years (without).
> 
> Ugh.
> 
> But, I'm starting to get back into the swing of things. I was tinkering with Worthy, chapter 42, working through more of my future A/B/O-inspired work, and wrote, then summarily rejected, the next chapter of Life Is Rather Pleasant, Actually, to start from scratch, before finally coming back to this one, which I only had to partially re-write to get the story exactly where I wanted it.
> 
> In the original draft, I had Max forcing herself to photo jump and warn herself not to break into Nathan's room, to prevent all of this from happening, only to collapse when she snapped back to the present and in full view of Rachel, Victoria, Stella, and Juliet, which would eventually lead to them discovering the note that Max left for herself and asking some major questions after she recovered. I didn't like where it put the story, though, so after thinking about it further, I finally remembered the from-left-field discovery of a second photographer I had jotted down somewhere, and liked that a whole lot more, so I decided to go with that, instead.
> 
> I hope that this chapter is as enjoyable as the previous ones! Let's see what happens next.


	17. Tempered Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came along much quicker than I anticipated, which I'm taking as a good sign. Enjoy!

Chloe Price was a great many things. Impatient. Reckless. Impulsive. But most of all, she was angry. At life. At everything. About her father dying. About Max moving away. About her mother marrying that fascist dick. About her hometown being a fucking cesspool. There were so many things around her that pissed her off and there weren't enough hours in the day to list them all in one sitting, not without getting angry again.

Rachel was absolutely not one of those things. She was the balm to Chloe's angry spirit, the music to soothe her savage beast. It was Rachel who calmed her down when she raged, or, failing that, the one who directed her anger towards targets that could be smashed without consequence (the aluminum baseball bat at the junkyard had seen a lot of use). Sometimes, when things weren't so shitty, she and Rachel would share a bit of alcohol or weed and they'd mellow out with each other that way. Other times, physical closeness was desired: hugs, cuddles, at home or at the junkyard, sharing a bed in the dorms or her house, wherever. Occasionally, such closeness would lead to sex, though not always. Which was perfectly fine for both of them. As Rachel was fond of saying, "Everything in moderation."

Granted, at the time she had said that, she was holding a shot glass between her tits, but the sentiment still held true.

A direct result of the closeness they shared was the two of them being pretty in-tune with one another and could tell when something was up. They had different approaches to actually discussing things, though. Chloe would rant at earliest opportunity. She needed little prompting to vent the moment that she and Rachel were alone together. Rachel would listen and, depending on the seriousness of the issue, would cut in with a joke, offer advice, or quietly listen until Chloe was finished. Every now and then, Rachel would redirect Chloe when the girl went off on a tangent but usually allowed her to just talk without any interference.

On the other hand, Rachel would get quiet. Not around others, though. When surrounded by family, teachers, or peers, she'd maintain her public persona without batting an eye, all smiles and flirtations, with none being the wiser. But alone with Chloe, she'd shut up and not talk at all. It was just her way, needing to be alone in her own head to process the issue before she was able to speak aloud about whatever was on her mind. Normally, it'd only take an hour or two, during which time, Chloe would simply hold her while music or a movie played in the background. If things were really bad, she'd be silent the entire night, only able to talk the following day.

Last night, after the party, it was really bad.

Chloe knew something was wrong the moment she got the text from Rachel. Strange enough that Rachel actually volunteered to work the drink booth at a Vortex party, considering she rarely attended their activities nowadays. But to call her for back up? Okay, sure, it's not like she was going to say no to Rachel (not to mention free weed and booze), but things must've been downright desperate for Rachel to ask for Chloe's help, and for Icky-Vicky to agree to it. Stranger still was Rachel not sampling any of the available product for herself. It was such an oddity that Chloe wound up not partaking anything more than a single beer herself.

But after the party, when it was just the two of them in the privacy of Chloe's bedroom, Rachel shut down completely. And though she wasn't traditionally known for it, Chloe was quiet and patient, taking great pains to just be there for Rachel, even going so far as to undress her for bed, as she was so unresponsive. Chloe had hoped that Rachel would be able to talk about whatever was eating her this morning but it was apparent she wasn't ready yet.

Hence, the reason Chloe was making a surprise visit to the dorms, to make sure that Rachel was okay, and to be there for her if she was finally ready to talk. Technically, she wasn't allowed on campus after curfew but she was on good terms with security (minus David, of course) and they turned a blind eye to her presence. And so, after letting herself inside the dorm's main door with Rachel's key, Chloe made her way upstairs to the second floor, stepped into the hall, and immediately turned to the first door on the left, ready to let herself inside Rachel's room.

"GODDAMMIT FUCK!"

Only to stop dead in her tracks. That was Rachel's voice, very loud and really pissed off, but coming from down the hall rather than her room. The fuck...? Curious and concerned, Chloe turned and walked deeper into the dorm, towards the only door that was open. Rachel wasn't yelling any more but Chloe could hear other voices coming from the room.

Some kind of meeting? And with whom?

She closer she got, the clearer the voices became, until Chloe could finally make out what was being said.

"--know, I know. Sorry. It's just..."

"We know." Maybe Juliet? "And we're not blaming you for needed to vent, but the walls still have ears."

"Yeah, I hear you." Rachel let out a shuddering sigh. "This is just so damn frustrating. I wish we had more to go on."

"Trust me, I looked." Chloe blinked. Max? "But this was it. There might be more on his laptop but he must've taken that with him."

"So, we keep looking at what we have." Victoria's voice. "There has to be something we're missing."

"We've gone over these so many times, though." Unknown. "If there is something here, I can't see it."

"Maybe switch with each other?" Dana, too? "Look at things with fresh eyes?"

"I don't think I can stomach looking any more." Rachel again, her voice strained. "Not yet. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

"Shh. It's okay." Victoria, sounding way more sympathetic than Chloe had ever heard before. "Don't force yourself. This is tough on all of us, we understand. Take a break, get some distance between you and this. No one's going to judge you."

"Yeah." Another shuddering sigh from Rachel. "Yeah. That sounds... yeah."

"Let's get some air," came Dana's gentle suggestion. "We'll hang out, take it easy, and I'll give you all the exciting highlights of tonight's game you missed."

Rachel snorted out a wet laugh. "Yay. How riveting." She sniffed. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Any time."

Standing just off to the side of the doorway, Chloe hesitated. Should she stay and reveal she had overhead some of the conversation? Or duck around the corner and hide in the bathroom? A moment later, the decision was made for her when Rachel and Dana stepped out of the room, turned, and nearly ran straight into Chloe.

Rachel, already on edge and not expecting anyone there, shrieked.

Dana, in full-on protective mode, reacted to the unknown presence by lashing out with a vicious punch.

Chloe, not expecting either reaction, was caught completely flat-footed and took the fist to her mouth.

"OW!" Chloe cried out as she staggered backwards and bumped into the corner of the side hall. She reached up with both hands and cupped her mouth. "Jesus-fucking-Christ!"

Dana gasped as she realized who she had just socked in the mouth. "Oh, my God!" Had hands flew up to cover her mouth, eyes wide in shock. "Chloe! I'm so fucking sorry!"

Wincing, Chloe dabbed at the blood on her upper lip. "For fuck's sake, D, goddamn! What the hell was that for?" She shot a glare at the girl in question, then watched as several other girls rushed out of the room. She shook her head and focused her attention on Rachel, then blinked. She looked fucking terrified, staring at Chloe with wide eyes. "Rach?" Pain momentarily forgotten, Chloe rushed forward, not really seeing how Rachel flinched back and tried to run away, only to bump into Stella and Juliet. Chloe reached out to clasp Rachel's upper arms only to have her cry out and struggle in her grip. "What the hell--? Rach! Please, it's me!"

It was no use. Rachel was having a complete meltdown, crying, yelling, struggling harder, lashing out wildly, fighting Chloe's gri

<<<<<<<<<<//

"Rach?" Pain momentarily forgotten, Chloe rushed forward only to have none other than Max herself step forward to block Chloe's path. In a move that caught everyone by complete surprise, Max pushed Chloe back, away from Rachel and the other girls, until she had Chloe pressed against the corner of the side hall.

"Enough." Max leveled a glare at Chloe, her face serious. "I need you to stop right now and listen to me."

For a moment, all Chloe could do was gape at Max, slack-jawed. This was absolutely not the girl she once knew. But, after a couple of seconds, she regained her footing as her tell-tale temper flared up. "You better back--"

<<<<<<<<<<//

Max shoved even harder, keeping Chloe pinned in place. "STOP." She shoved a finger right in Chloe's face. "Goddammit, you are 30 seconds away from completely destroying your relationship with your girlfriend, and you're being too fucking stupid to see it. So, if you actually love Rachel and give a shit about her well-being, I highly suggest you SHUT. THE FUCK. UP. And _listen_ to me!"

Never in the history of Chloe's life had anyone ever faced her down like this, let alone Max Caulfield, the walking definition of wallflower. It was so utterly out of character for her that, once again, Chloe had no choice but to gape, though this time, the seriousness of Max's words finally penetrated the anger that clouded her better judgement. She looked past Max to where Rachel stood, and blinked again. Her normally vibrant girlfriend was hunched forward, hugging herself, trembling, eyes unfocused as she stared at nothing. Several girls, including Victoria of all damn people, hovered nearby, shielding her from some unseen threat, yet not actually touching her, as if she might break if they did so.

That errant thought gave Chloe pause.

Maybe she would? And that's why Max was keeping her away? Because if Chloe went in like she always did, half-cocked and raring to go, that would actually hurt Rachel?

She swallowed heavily. What the fuck was happening here?

After several tense moments, Chloe finally relaxed her stance. "Okay," she said quietly, then looked back to Max. "I'm listening."

Still, Max didn't let up. Without turning her head, she said, "Victoria. Please escort Rachel to her room, then stay there. Keep her company. Stella, go with them. She needs you both."

Chloe watched as the girls in question used soft voices to gently coax Rachel from her spot to shuffle down the hall, out of sight.

When they passed, Max spoke again. "Juliet. There's a first aid kit in my cabinet. Top shelf. Please get that for me and meet us in the bathroom. Dana, you're coming, too." Finally, she eased off of Chloe, then motioned towards the bathroom door at the end of the side hall.

Having little choice, and still too stunned to actually argue, Chloe went to said bathroom and entered, followed quickly by Max and Dana. She followed Max's prompting and went to the sink furthest from the door, likely to give Max enough time to intercept her should she try to book it. Charging out of the room was the drop-dead last thing on Chloe's mind right, though. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on, that took priority.

Juliet hurried inside, first aid kit in hand. "Here you go," she said quietly.

"Thank you." Using the middle sink as a makeshift shelf, Max popped the kit open and started rummaging around. "Dana, go ahead and wash up."

Dana blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Max glanced at her, then pointed to Dana's right hand. "Your knuckle's bleeding."

Glancing down towards her hand, Dana finally saw the wound, and only then did it actually start hurting. "Shit."

"You probably cut yourself on the edge of Chloe's tooth when you punched her," Max explained, withdrawing several items. "It's nothing too serious but we need to get the wound cleaned and disinfected."

"Okay." Dana went to the sink opposite Chloe and cranked the water on. As she waited for the water to heat, she looked to Chloe, her face remorseful. "I'm really fucking sorry about that."

Chloe shrugged. "Had worse. But I gotta say, that was one hell of a reaction." She tried grinning and winced as her lip throbbed again. "Remind me to never try scaring you."

Max handed Chloe a patch of gauze. "Here. I don't have anything better to help a cut on the inside of your lip, so I hope it'll heal soon."

"Thanks." Chloe pressed the gauze against her upper lip. "I'm sure it'll be fine in a bit." Max nodded and went back to the first aid kit, which gave Chloe time to think.

She knew for a fact that Dana wasn't a violent person at all. Yet her immediate reaction at Chloe's presence was to throw a punch. Rachel wasn't the kind to get scared about anything, yet she looked so terrified in that moment. Victoria normally wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with Rachel, her supposed mortal enemy, yet was the one who hovered closest to Rachel, and was the one Max had ordered to take Rachel to her room.

And Max. Chloe looked at the no-longer-shy hipster as she handed an alcohol wipe to Juliet as the girl helped her friend. Gone was the terrified girl she met earlier this semester. Gone was the mousey girl that Rachel told her about, the one who made absolutely certain to stay in the background and not bring attention to herself. What replaced her was a fierce, takes-no-shit, get-in-your-face bitch who would absolutely get physical with you to keep you in one spot. Which, hell, was even more out of character than a violent Dana!

Again, the question was, just what the fuck happened to everyone recently? Did Chloe somehow step into an alternate universe where everyone acted like their polar opposite? She shifted her weight and cleared her throat. "So, is it too soon to ask what's going on?"

Dana, in the middle of getting some ointment dabbed onto her cut, glanced at Chloe, then to Juliet, then finally Max. She bit her bottom lip and seemed extremely reluctant to say anything. Juliet, too, didn't seem eager to speak, which, from what Chloe remembered of her the few times they hung out together, was very much out of character. That just left Max, who, thankfully, no longer looked like she wanted to tear Chloe's head off but instead looked bone weary.

"No, right now, it's not a good time to ask," Max stated. "I know you're worried sick about Rachel and you really want to know so you can fix it, but this one time, you need to just be there for her. That's it. Be a rock for her, someone that she can rely on to keep her steady. She's going to need it in the coming days and weeks."

She turned to Juliet and Dana, who had just finished up with the band-aid. "If you can give us a moment, please?"

"Yeah, sure," Dana replied, then reached out to gently clasp Max's shoulder. "Thanks for looking after me. After us."

"Of course."

Dana let go but didn't leave yet. "Once you're done, if you need, stop by my room, okay?"

"I appreciate the offer," Max said, then flicked her gaze to Juliet, whose back was turned to the pair, and back to Dana. "But I'm sure I'll be fine."

Dana caught the look, and the unspoken suggestion that came with it, and nodded. "I understand." She turned and took hold of Juliet's hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "C'mon. It's been a long fucking night and I'm gonna need some help finally peeling this stupid cheerleader uniform off."

Juliet managed a small, appreciative smile. "I hear you."

Chloe waited for the door to close behind the departing pair before turning to Max. "What's up, Maximus?" she asked quietly.

Max turned and gave Chloe a level look. "Just Max. Only friends have the right to give me nicknames. Got it?"

Damn. That stung way more than Chloe thought it would. Still, she nodded. "Got it."

"Good." Max turned back to the first aid and closed it. "I'm going to tell you something super important and you better pay close attention 'cause I'm not in the mood to repeat myself."

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm fucking serious." Max turned back to Chloe. "Life or death serious. I mean it."

Chloe nodded slowly. Max had never, ever, been like this before, and so, she resolved to pay close attention to whatever she had to say. "Understood."

Max turned to sink that Dana had just used and turned the faucet back on. "Rachel's gone through some heavy shit," she began as she started washing her hands. "Really bad. When we're done here, you're going to go to her room, and be her rock. And when, not if, she finally tells you about it, you're gonna get pissed." After rinsing her hands, she turned the water off and reached for a paper towel. "More than pissed. You're going to rage stronger than you ever have." She dried her hands and crumpled the damp paper towel in her fist. "And you're gonna want to murder someone because of it."

She turned to face Chloe dead on. "Don't. If you only make one smart decision in your entire life, _don't_ do a goddamn thing. Don't rant, don't rage, don't do jack shit. The only thing you will do is be the most dedicated, supportive, perfect girlfriend to Rachel as humanly possible. Be a motherfucking saint to her, and stick by her side, and never, ever, fucking let her go."

Max stepped close to Chloe and pointed a finger in her chest. "Tell her, every-fucking-day, that you love her, that you'll be there for her, that you support her, no matter what. And most importantly, remind her that she isn't to blame for any of it. At all. Ever. Until she finally believes it herself." She leaned in even closer and spoke her next words carefully. "There are only two people to blame for what happened," she stated, her voice going dangerously quiet. "I know who one of them is. And when I find out who the second person is, _I'll_ be the one doing the murdering."

And with that, Max turned, grabbed the first aid kit, and left the bathroom, leaving behind her former best friend who stared after her, stunned, intimidated, and more than a little bit terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who reads the comments on this work will know that I wasn't certain about actually introducing Chloe into the work proper. Despite her being the game's deuteragonist, she had no real place in this story outside of some background info. I also wasn't too keen on the probable confrontation between her and Max, knowing that the next time they met, it wouldn't be very pretty. Tempers would flare, words would be shouted, and shit would absolutely go down.
> 
> However, a chat with Rainboq in the previous chapter's comment made me realize that I had, for all intents and purposes, put myself into a box. I had one idea about how that would go and couldn't think outside of it. After thinking about it more, I went back into my notes and discovered an almost-forgotten scene I had typed out a while back that I wasn't sure I'd be able to use, so I shelved it for later perusal. After taking that scene's intro and cutting out the rest, I realized I had the perfect way to introduce Chloe into the story. And after thinking about it more, I knew I'd be able to have a confrontation with Max without having said scene completely destroy everything else I had already done.
> 
> I hope no one minds the bit of humor in this chapter. That's just what my fingers dictated and I liked it so much, I left it intact. I also figured a bit of levity would be a good counter-balance to the seriousness of the rest of the chapter and what's coming next.


	18. Pairs

The evening was pretty much over after what had happened, with everyone pairing up before going their own way.

Juliet stayed with Dana. Though they hadn't shared a bed with each other since the eighth grade, Dana didn't hesitate to invite Juliet to sleep with her, which she gratefully accepted. After the pair took care of their nightly rituals in the restroom, they decided to head straight to bed, Dana acting as big spoon.

In the dark of the room, Dana's arm around her waist, holding her close, Juliet took a long, deep breath, then slowly let it out. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," was Dana's soft reply.

"I almost never go to bed this early on a Friday night, though, so it might take me a bit to fall asleep."

"I figured. But however long it takes, I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Juliet placed her hand over Dana's and entwined their fingers together. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Absolutely."

"Talk to me." Juliet gave Dana's hand a soft squeeze. "About anything. I just... don't want to be alone in my head right now."

"Sure." Dana rifled through her memory for something to ramble about, then smiled as an idea came to her. She turned her head slightly, cleared her throat, then turned back. "Once upon a time," she began, using a slightly deeper voice.

"Oh, lord." In lieu of a facepalm, Juliet turned her head to bury her face into the pillow. "Not again," she grumbled, voice slightly muffled.

Dana grinned at Juliet's mock-consternation. "Hush," she said, voice normal again. "You know the rules: no interrupting the storyteller."

"Ugh." Even though no one could see it, Juliet pouted, though at the same time, she was relieved. If anyone could distract her brain from overthinking things, it was Dana. "Fine."

"Good. Now, as I was saying..." Dana deepened her voice again. "There were two adorable teen girls, bright, energetic, and lovely, and totally crushing on a pair of hunky football players."

It most definitely wasn't a story as old as time. The events that had transpired a mere three years ago were a touch embarrassing for the both of them, but it wasn't anything terrible, and Dana had a gift when it came to spinning a memory into something wonderfully ridiculous. And most importantly, it was distractedly familiar: an awkward tale of teen crushes, goofy dance lessons, new makeup and clothes, and a practice kiss (or two, or three) to make sure they'd get it right. Juliet closed her eyes, listening to Dana's voice, and despite the horrors of the evening, slowly drifted off to sleep, a soft smile on her face.

* * *

Neither Victoria nor Stella felt like going to bed right away. After comforting Rachel and eventually leaving her in the care of Chloe, both retired to Victoria's room, content to sit next to each other, finding solace in the peace and quiet.

30 seconds later, Victoria shot from the couch and started pacing. "Fucking hell. I don't know about you but this silence is complete bullshit."

Stella scrubbed at her face, thankful Victoria had spoken up. "Same." She lowered her hands and looked up. "What do you have in mind?"

Victoria paused in her pacing, a plan of attack rapidly forming, then made her way to her cabinet. "What do you know about anime?"

Definitely not a question Stella was expecting but she replied, "I watched a bit of Dragonball Z and Gundam Wing when it was on TV."

"You're familiar with the art form, then. Good." Victoria slid aside the fake books that hid her anime collection, then grabbed a specific Blu-Ray. "Personally, I was never a fan of DBZ and Gundam's way too heavy for a night like this. So, I'm going for something a lot more lighthearted."

"Okay?" Stella watched as Victoria loaded the disc into her player, grabbed a couple of remotes, then sat back down on the couch. "So, what are we watching, then?"

" _Ouran Host Club_." Victoria glanced over to Stella. "Ever heard of it?"

"No," Stella replied with a slight shake of her head.

"Reverse harem anime if that means anything to you, rather silly, no real thinking required." Victoria turned on her TV and navigated the menu. "If you absolutely hate it, I'll swap for something else. Otherwise, it'll at least make for some decent background noise."

"Sounds good to me." As Victoria hit Play, Stella settled into her seat, fully prepared to be pleasantly bored.

Eight minutes later, she was amused.

Seventeen minutes later, she was charmed.

And by the end of the episode, she was hooked.

Stella and Victoria wound up spending the next few hours watching the first half of the series. Throughout it, Stella would ask questions about some of the cultural references she didn't get, and each time, Victoria would pause the episode and gladly explain the details. At no point did either girl think of how incongruous they might appear to outsiders: the Vortex Club president and a scholarship kid, both enjoying a late-night viewing of an anime series and enjoying every minute of it.

Eventually, the night grew late. Unable to stop yawning, the pair called it quits after episode 13 and got ready for bed, Stella promising to watch the rest with Victoria later. As they used the facilities and brushed their teeth, Victoria surprised Stella by offering her the use of her couch if she wanted to spend the night. "It may not fold out but it's still damn comfortable. Taylor and Courtney have crashed in my room before and never complained about stiff necks or sore backs the next day."

"I think I will." Stella gave Victoria a warm smile. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

An so, in the dead of the night, exhausted by their anime marathon, the pair crashed hard, their sleep undisturbed by the shit they had seen earlier or by frightening images of the past. Which was all part of Victoria's plan.

* * *

Max was right: Chloe desperately wanted to murder someone. But, no matter how badly she wanted to feed Nathan his own entrails, she had something far more important to do:

Be a rock.

After Victoria and Stella departed, it had taken Rachel several hours to finally tell Chloe the truth about that night, about her suspicions about what actually happened, and the horror of getting confirmation. When she was finished, she apologized, for keeping this from her, for being so stupid, ready to beg for forgiveness.

She never got the chance.

Chloe simply held her tight and whispered comforting words. That she was here for her, no matter what. That she loved her and would protect her, do anything for her. That Rachel wasn't to blame for any of it. Ever. It was all that fucking bastard's fault, so don't even think about begging.

Rachel responded the only way she could: she cried. And Chloe never let go.

An unknown amount of time passed until Chloe noticed that Rachel had fallen asleep in her arms. Not wanting to disturb her, Chloe grabbed the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the couch, carefully pulled it over her girlfriend, and tucked her in as best she could. Satisfied Rachel would be decently warm, Chloe settled in for the long night ahead.

She wasn't getting any sleep tonight, that was for damn sure.

So instead, she stared. At the walls. Out the window. At Rachel. At nothing. She closed her eyes. Imagined beating Nathan to death with her baseball bat. Gutting him with a butcher knife. Shooting him with one of David's guns. Strangling him with her bare hands. She imagined how good it would feel to kill that fucking son of a bitch, to get revenge for Rachel. And the others.

Because even before Rachel revealed the truth about what happened to herself and everyone else, Chloe had a terrible suspicion that all the other girls were involved. Why else would they be in a meeting in Max's room? Which meant that Nathan had been doing this shit for a long time now. She clenched her free hand into a fist. Goddamn, she wanted to hit something so fucking bad, preferably Nathan's face.

But, she couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Because Max was right about something else: Rachel took priority over everything. So, Chloe would stay right here, by her side, and be her rock.

In the dead of the night, she remembered what else Max had told her in the bathroom. How fucking serious Max looked and sounded. And thought that maybe, just maybe, Max really would get vengeance for Rachel. For everyone.

And that thought scared the absolute shit out of her.

* * *

Juliet had Dana. Rachel had Chloe. Victoria and Stella had each other.

Max?

Max had no one. Though she paid this no mind.

Knowing that sleep was going to be impossible for the foreseeable future, Max decided to keep working. She gathered up all the photos, sat at her desk, arranged the photos into individual stacks per victim, then proceeded to go through them one at at time, examining each carefully, looking for any detail, no matter how minute, that could shed some light on the identity of the second photographer and/or the location where the photos were taken. Considering how many eyes had already checked, it was likely a fool's errand, but it was better than doing nothing.

Slowly, Max accumulated a list of things that had either been overlooked by everyone earlier or was glossed over as insignificant:

The stark white backdrop used in the majority of the photos slowly accumulated scuff marks as time went on, meaning it was the same one used over and over again. Until Max's own photos were taken.  
\--replacement screen? recent purchase?  
Occasionally, a coffee table was used as a prop. Glass top, curved sides, dark grey in color.  
\--modern aesthetic?  
A couch was used for some shots. Black with white cushions.  
\--matching furniture?  
A couple of photos showed a glare on the sofa.  
\--protective plastic?  
The floor beneath said furniture appeared tiled and very clean.  
\--cleaning crew?  
Over half the photos taken with the backdrop had little to no shadows, indicating the use of softbox lighting, likely from several angles.  
\--expensive furniture, expensive equipment, lots of money being spent. all Prescott?

Nearing the bottom of the Stella's stack, Max reached one specific photo and grimaced. It was an extreme closeup of Stella's eyes, though for this photo, Nathan, the sick fuck, had slipped her glasses back on her face, angled the camera carefully, then purposely used a flash to catch his reflection in the lens. That reflection, coupled with her blank stare, gave the illusion that he filled Stella's vision, that he was all she could see.

When Stella first came across it, she had freaked, scrambling backwards and burying herself into the corner of Max's couch. It took several minutes for Rachel and Victoria to calm her down, though once she had, she made a heroic effort to continue on despite everyone telling her she could take a break. She did, however, skip over the next couple of photos, as they appeared to be identical to that first one, just at slightly different angles.

(Everyone had also wondered if that photo would be enough to implicate Nathan, but they eventually deduced that Nathan could completely undermine any argument Stella could make by saying she had agreed to pose for the shot, and without any evidence to the contrary, little could be done to prove otherwise.)

Now, Max examined those other photos carefully. She was hoping that if Nathan was stupid enough to take a selfie, perhaps he was also stupid enough to--

...

Wait.

Max furrowed her brow and looked over one of the photos carefully. There was something else there. Barely visible. Hard to make out. Too bad she didn't have a magnifying glass, but maybe...?

She laid the photo flat on her desk, grabbed her phone, and used the camera app to zoom in.

Dammit. No good. But she was positive there was something there.

She needed help. And she had a good idea who to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues! Sorry it took a while to get this out but, believe it or not, part of the delay was a bunch of work I was doing on Worthy (no, that fic isn't dead). Sadly, chapter 42 still isn't ready but it's getting closer. In the meantime, I was at least able to complete this chapter and already have a rough draft of chapter 19 done. Hopefully, this means that it'll come out sooner rather than later.
> 
> I sincerely hope that everyone out there is staying safe. Please, take care of yourselves and each other, too.


	19. Photoshop

The next morning found Juliet and Dana at the Two Whales chowing down on a decidedly calorie-driven breakfast. They wound up splitting a ham and cheese omelet, a waffle with plenty of syrup, side of bacon, and an order of buttered toast. Definitely not their normal fare, but dammit, they deserved it!

Throughout the meal, they texted the other girls regularly, who were also up and about. They discovered that after a morning shower, Victoria took Stella up north to grab a bite at a bistro she favored. Chloe and Rachel went in the opposite direction to Tillamook to grab something at McDonald's, on account that neither was feeling like dealing with people. In fact, neither were feeling like Arcadia Bay at all, so once they got their food, the continued down Highway 101 with plans to return to Blackwell "eventually."

Max, though, stayed mostly quiet. She hadn't replied to any of the messages in the group chat but did send out a single message to Juliet only:

Please text me when you get back.

While it was worrisome that Max was isolating herself from everyone else, Juliet could understand. Everyone dealt with their pain differently and, up until last night, Max was convinced she was the only one suffering. She was already used to dealing with this shit by herself; she probably didn't have an idea how to reach out to anyone else, especially those who hadn't given her the time of day beforehand. Dana had already committed herself to reaching out to Max, so it was an easy thing for Juliet to do the same.

And so, when she and Dana got back to the dorms, Juliet texted Max that they were back, then hopped over to her room to wait for Dana, who went to the restroom. She had barely sat down at her desk when there was a knock on her door.

"Come in." Juliet turned to see Max, looking absolutely exhausted, step inside. "Didn't sleep?" she asked sympathetically.

"No, not really," Max replied with a shake of her head. "But that's not important right now. I need your help."

"Sure thing. With what?"

"Do you have access to a scanner and maybe something like Photoshop?"

"Yes, actually," Juliet replied. "We have a scanner as well as some editing software in the Media room that's used for the Totem. How come?"

Max took a deep breath. "Because I think I found something in one of the photos last night but I need a closer look."

Juliet's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"I _think_ I found something," Max stressed, "but I'm not sure, and I want confirmation before I get everyone's hopes up."

"Makes sense," Juliet said as she stood from her desk and grabbed her purse. "Let's go now, then. The sooner we get this checked, the better."

"You can get inside the main building on a Saturday?" Max asked as she followed Juliet out of the room.

"Yep. Being the editor-in-chief of the Totem has its perks, one of which is having a key to get inside whenever I need."

"Handy."

"Definitely." Juliet smirked. "More than a few people have tried getting their hands on it. Never gonna happen, though. I don't want to lose it nor the trust of the faculty that gave it to me."

"I can understand that."

On the way, Juliet texted Dana about her whereabouts so she wouldn't worry, receiving a quick reply.

 **Dana  
**Gotcha. You need any company?

 **Me**  
Max is with me and this shouldn't take too long. I'll text when I'm done and on the way back.

 **Dana**  
OK.

 **Dana**  
Stay safe!

A few minutes later, Juliet was leading the way inside the Media Lit room. "Here's where all the magic happens."

Max looked around at all the computers, the equipment, the overly large printer against the far wall. "And you run this place all by yourself?"

"Not really," Juliet admitted as she took a seat at her preferred station. "Mr. Jameson is technically the faculty in charge of everything but for the most part, he let's me have free reign." Once the PC had finished booting up and she logged in, she lifted the lid on a nearby scanner. "Place your photo here face-down and I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay."

A couple of key strokes later had the image scanned and saved. Juliet clicked the necessary program and when the image popped up a moment later, she couldn't help but shudder. The creepy-as-fuck closeup of Stella's face was now filling her monitor, her eyes open but blank, unable to move or react to what had happened to her.

What had happened to all of them.

Max wasn't oblivious to Juliet's sudden trepidation but since she wasn't sure how to help, opted to ignore the reaction in favor of leaning forward and pointing at the screen. "Here. Can you blow this part up?"

"Y-yeah. One sec." Juliet clicked the magnifying tool and zoomed into the area Max indicated, which was the right lens of Stella's glasses. "What are you looking for?"

"In one of the other photos, Nathan took a selfie by reflecting his flash off of Stella's left lens. This shot looks similar but the focal length is different. I'm thinking he was trying to capture his partner's reflection." Max squinted. "But it's so hard to tell."

Juliet narrowed her gaze, finally able to see a hint of something there. "Now that you point it out... yeah. I think there's something there. Hold on." She saved the image as-is, then forced herself to think as an editor. "Let me try a few things."

She got to work, increasing the sharpness, rotating the image, mirroring the image. She erased everything but the lens. Changed color palettes. Grey-scaled the image. And through it all, the reflection got a bit clearer, though details still eluded them.

Max, now seated next to Juliet, sighed in frustration. "Dammit."

"Yeah." Juliet sat back and rubbed her eyes. "I hoped for something better, too."

"Is there anything else we can try? Anything at all?" Max was certain this photo was critical and wasn't ready to give up yet.

"No. I went through all the tools I use to clean up an image but-- wait." Juliet shot upright. "There _is_ one more thing!"

Max sat up as well. "What? What is it?"

Juliet went back to one of the multitude of images she had opened. "I'm going to invert the colors. It's something I rarely do because it makes people look creepy as hell, but it might do the trick here." She clicked through the menus, inverted the colors, and saw nothing. "Shit. No, hold on." She minimized that particular image and went to another one. "I have a lot of them here. Let's try them all."

Two images later, she had success. And it nearly gave her a heart attack. Juliet gasped and jerked away from the monitor, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "I-- T-That's--"

Max, too, felt that same wave of shock and horror, but said nothing. Instead, she forced it down as far as she could and leaned forward to stare at the revealed image of her other rapist. Their other rapist. She clenched her hands into fists as shock gave way to anger and betrayal.

Juliet, unable to move or turn away, was struck with the realization that there was no one they could turn to. Nothing they could do. At all. They were so goddamn fucked. Despair flooded her and she trembled. "Oh, God... We... That's--"

"A goddamn dead man," Max ground out as her hands quaked with barely repressed violence. "He and Nathan both. They're both fucking dead."

Hearing that, Juliet looked at Max, though she couldn't see her clearly through the torrent of her tears. "What... what are we going to do?" she managed to get out.

" _We_ aren't doing anything," Max stated as she tore her gaze away from the monitor. She had what she needed. Time to reset. " _I_ am going to fix this. All of this. Permanently."

Juliet wiped at her eyes, missing the moment when Max withdrew a Polaroid from her bag and stared into it. "I... I don't

<<<<<<<<<<[X]

The next morning found Juliet and Dana at the Two Whales chowing down on a decidedly calorie-driven breakfast. They wound up splitting a ham and cheese omelet, a waffle with plenty of syrup, side of bacon, and an order of buttered toast. Definitely not their normal fare, but dammit, they deserved it!

Throughout the meal, they texted the other girls regularly, who were also up and about. They discovered that after a morning shower, Victoria took Stella up north to grab a bite at a bistro she favored. Chloe and Rachel went in the opposite direction to Tillamook to grab something at McDonald's, on account that neither was feeling like dealing with people. In fact, neither were feeling like Arcadia Bay at all, so once they got their food, the continued down Highway 101 with plans to return to Blackwell "eventually."

Max, though, was completely silent. She hadn't replied to any of the messages in the group chat at all.

While that was worrisome, it was possible she was still asleep. Or, it was possible she was awake but just didn't want to talk. Juliet could understand that. After all, everyone dealt with their pain differently and, up until last night, Max was convinced she was the only one suffering. She was already used to dealing with this shit by herself and probably had no idea how to reach out to anyone else, especially those who hadn't given her the time of day beforehand. Dana had already committed herself to reaching out to Max, so it was an easy thing for Juliet to do the same.

When she and Dana got back to the dorms, Juliet approached Max's door and knocked gently. "Hey, Max? I don't know if you're up or not, but if you are, I'm here for you. Dana, too. Stop in if you want, anytime."

Juliet waited several moments but there was no response. No movement from inside, either. Maybe she really was asleep? Well, it was Saturday, so no harm in sleeping in. She stepped away from the door and fired off one more text, this time to only Max:

 **Me**  
Dana and I will be here for you if you need us. Stop in anytime.

Message delivered, she walked back to her room to wait for Dana. They had plans to do absolutely nothing together and she didn't want to miss it.

[X]>>>>>>>>>>

Max blinked.

She was back.

In her room.

On her couch.

The note she left herself was at her side.

And the unadulterated hate she had felt in the Media room burned just as hot.

Slowly, she reached over and crumpled the piece of paper in her fist.

She trembled, fighting against the urge to scream, to cry, to hit something.

No.

That was pointless. Useless. Unproductive.

She had to focus. There were more important things to do.

Specifically, plan a murder.

Two of them.

Because no matter how long it took, no matter what happened to her, no matter the cost, they were going to die.

Nathan Fucking Prescott and Goddamn Mark Jefferson.

She was going to kill them. If it was the last thing she ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably no huge surprise that Jefferson is another villain in this tale. Apologies to anyone hoping for something different but I'll admit that sometimes, I do take the easy approach.
> 
> Back in the comments of chapter 11, Stretch802 wondered about Nathan being the one to win the Everyday Hero contest and the possibilities that could entail. The next chapter will delve into that a little bit.
> 
> Everyone has a breaking point. Max thought she reached hers back in chapter 2, when she snapped and beat the ever-loving shit out of Nathan.
> 
> She was wrong.


End file.
